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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030695">Where The Soul Of Man Never Dies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultdweller12/pseuds/vaultdweller12'>vaultdweller12</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Five Nights at Freddy's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Harm to Children, Minor William Afton | Dave Miller/Henry Emily, Regret</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:13:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultdweller12/pseuds/vaultdweller12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A down on her luck nurse gets a job at Fazbear’s Fright and it doesn’t take her long to come face to face with the tormented spirit that resides in the halls, searching for an escape from his past. How far will he go and how much will he sacrifice to accomplish his goals? Is the new nightguard just another body left in his wake or an attempt at redemption?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Children, Go Where I send Thee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Big shoutout to my beta-reader Tollekecat, who helped me create this fic to the point where it is today.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cries of joy and excitement fill the air as they follow Springbonnie, who told them he has a special surprise in store for the birthday boy.</p><p>“This is the best day ever.” Jeremy, the birthday boy in question declares, to which Springbonnie flashes a reassuring smile. Springbonnie opens the door to the storage room, the glued-on smile faltering for a second as he leads the children through the threshold. The group of children, four boys, and one girl are practically beaming with delight as they take in the sights the room has to offer. A couple of unused animatronic suits are leaning against the wall, chest plates removed, showing the internal machinery and mechanical entrails of the suits. Meanwhile, one of the children, the blonde pigtailed girl, steps forward, her excitement barely contained as she balances herself on the balls of her feet.</p><p>“Susie, wasn’t it?” Springbonnie asks as he extends an open hand towards the girl. Susie nods vigorously, happily accepting the open invitation. The man’s smile broadens behind the mask, to the point where it seems his face might split into two.</p><p>“Congratulations, Susie. You get to be the first.”</p><p>Susie still smiles though she can’t hide the confusion in her voice as she asks: “the first what?”</p><p>Springbonnie doesn’t reply, instead, he lets the knife he’s been keeping in one of the suit’s cavities slip into his other hand. The knife cleanly slides between Suzie’s ribs, deep enough to puncture her right lung. She’s still coughing up blood when Springbonnie moves to his second victim, a freckled boy wearing a gray striped shirt. Jennie doesn’t think as she throws herself in front of the boy, shielding him with her body. The remaining children are clawing at the door, desperate to get out. They scream for help, but no one comes. They are still clawing at the door when a strong, firm hand rests upon their shoulders. The last thing they see is Springbonnie’s gleeful smile as he cuts their throats. After that, they know only darkness.</p><p>***</p><p>Disposing of the children’s bodies had been for lack of a better expression, child’s play. All he had to do was stuff their corpses inside the spare animatronic suits and none were the wiser. But something had been amiss recently. It had started when parents and employees alike complained about the animatronic leaking a substance akin to blood and mucus, in addition to releasing a foul odor similar to that of a rotting corpse. He isn’t too worried; he knew the animatronics would spill their morbid secrets sooner or later. After all, stashing the corpses inside the animatronics had been the most practical solution to dispose of the bodies at the time. The subject is dropped for a time until one of the animatronics suddenly assaults a Fazbear’s employee out of nowhere, horribly scarring the man in the process. Things are rapidly escalating at this point, the animatronics becoming more erratic with each passing day, going as far as to hunt the night guard during his shift. One unfortunate victim soon found out what macabre plans the animatronics had planned for him. The day shift team had to scoop his corpse or what was left of him out of a discarded Freddy suit. By now, the incidents are all everyone can talk about, despite management trying their hardest to keep it under wrap by claiming that the animatronics are suffering from some sort of faulty glitch. He knows better, of course, no glitch could cause the animatronics to lash out like this, he should know, having built them. No, the animatronics are out for blood because of him or rather for him. Somehow, the children’s souls are tethered to the animatronic suits which they now utilize to exact their vengeance. Each night they search for him, uncaring who or what crosses their path. The details behind their supposed resurrection are of less importance right now, all that matters is that he disposes of them before anyone catches wind of his crimes. He lures the animatronics one by one inside an abandoned storage room, before dismantling them. The ghosts weren’t deterred however, they rose from their metal prisons, incorporeal in form.</p><p>Their murderer backed off into the corner, unsure how to proceed. He glances at the ax in his hand, the weapon seemed useless against them. He lets it clatter to the floor as the ghosts continue to advance on him. A vibrant, bright yellow catches his eye. It’s an old, abandoned Springbonnie suit. He isn’t sure whether it’s the same one he used all those years ago, but it could still serve his purpose all the same. He puts on the suit carefully, mindful of the springlocks that allow the suit to operate autonomously. The effect is immediate, the spirits stop dead in their tracks, seemingly unsure on how to proceed. It seems that after all this time, they still remember the suit and perhaps even fear it?</p><p>The irony of the situation isn’t lost on him, now that their roles are reversed.</p><p>He chuckles. “Still nothing more than frightened children, I see.”</p><p>Either due to his haste, the humidity of the room, or perhaps a technical issue, the springlock mechanism snapped back into place. Excruciating pain like nothing he felt before wracks his body as the mechanical parts of the suit puncture his organs and tear apart his body. The ghosts look on as their murderer’s body convulses rapidly on the floor before them. His consciousness is rapidly slipping as he’s bleeding out, but he can still make out the faint whisper.</p><p>
  <em>“I will put you back together.”</em>
</p><p>***</p><p>He startles awake like a drowning man gasping for air on the cold floor of the safe room. He tries to raise a hand to his face only to be met with excruciating pain that wracks his whole body. Out of breath, he recollects his thoughts. The last thing he remembers is the ghosts of the children cornering him in the safe room. He remembers putting on the Springbonnie suit, and then excruciating pain.</p><p><em>"Could it be that the suit had malfunctioned?</em> " It had happened in the past, resulting in the death of several Fazbear employees and the eventual discontinuation of the springlock suits.</p><p>
  <em>“How am I still alive?” </em>
</p><p>He carefully tests the limits of his pain threshold but quickly finds out some areas of his body are much more sensitive. He learns this the hard way as he tries to forcefully remove the head of the animatronic suit only to be met with a piercing pain that he has never experienced when dealing with the Springbonnie suit. He takes a deep breath, pushing his body to its limit as he raises himself on unsteady legs. Like a newborn foal, he stumbles to one of the broken-down arcade machines, to assess the damage the suit has wrecked on his body. The arcade machine has seen better days, the paint is chipping off, it’s missing one of its joysticks and the screen is cracked in several places. He takes a glance at his reflection in the cracked screen and what he sees causes his heart to stop. The once golden fur of the suit is stained dark red. The springlocks had indeed triggered, causing the endoskeleton to recoil inside and kill him.</p><p>
  <em>“This can’t be real. They can’t do this to me, they are only little children after all.” </em>
</p><p>He punches the cracked arcade screen with barely contained fury, the force of the blow so strong that he bursts through the already damaged screen. The resulting electrical shock is enough to cause the springsuit’s electronics to short circuit.</p><p>***</p><p>The sounds of voices startle him from a dreamless sleep. He listens on intently as they near the storage room that now doubles as his <em>‘final resting place.’</em></p><p>“The boss ain’t paying us enough for this crap.” a gruff voice calls out. “This place is giving me the creeps, Tom.” A man whines.</p><p>“I don’t like this any more than you do, Wally. But Mister Emily himself ordered us to cover up this old safe room and the faster we do it, the faster we can go home.”</p><p><em>"Emily."</em> The name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Had his former business partner finally caught up to him or had he put two and two together when his only partner was found dead in an abandoned storage room? Either way, it seemed Henry was intent on keeping the company’s skeletons in their closet or in this case, their storage room. He’s shaken from his musings when two men, one short and lanky, the other tall and muscular walk in, carrying toolboxes and other equipment.</p><p>“Are you seeing this shit, Tom?” The shorter one of the two, points straight at him, a look of utter fear dominating the man’s features.</p><p>The man named Tom pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We ain’t getting paid for ogling, now are you gonna help me or what?”</p><p>The other one, who he presumes is Wally, grumbles something under his breath but dedicates himself to the task at hand.</p><p>He tries to get their attention but neither one seems to notice his erratic movements or hear his cries for help. They’re nearly finished with boarding up the only entrance door when the one named Wally starts to act up again. He roughly pulls at Tom’s sleeve in an attempt to gain the older man’s attention.</p><p>“Wally, what is it this time?” Tom grunts in annoyance.</p><p>The younger man has gone completely pale in the face. “T-To-Tom, I think that corpse just m-mov-moved”.</p><p>The handyman directs his attention towards the discarded animatronic suit in the corner. The pool of blood around the body had long since dried up, giving it an eerie look.</p><p>Tom sighs. “It was probably just a twitch in the old processors, Wally. Shouldn’t be too surprising considering how humid it is here and all that exposed wiring, it’s bound to glitch now and then.”</p><p>Wally isn’t convinced. “If that t-th-thing so much as moves again, I’m outta here.”</p><p>“Just give me a hand with this board already.” Wally does as he’s ordered but keeps an eye on the animatronic just in case.</p><p>Said animatronic watches with growing horror as the two men finish up the last of their work, once again he finds himself alone in the growing darkness and for the first time in his life, he feels true fear.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. And Now He's Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The wheels of fate begin to turn when a young child is locked out of a pizzeria on the eve of her birthday.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rain is pouring out of the sky like there’s no tomorrow. It’s mid-January and the temperature is barely above the freezing point. A girl, no more than seven or eight years old, is standing outside in the freezing cold. She jumps from one foot to another to shake the numbness in her soaked limbs. The child grimaces at the sloshing sound her socks made in her shoes.  She’s unsure how much time has passed since the other girls locked her outside the pizzeria. At first, she thinks it’s a harmless prank but when they show no signs of letting her back inside, she realizes that they intend for her to stay outside all night. She pounces the window in frustration, but the bullies just turn their backs on her while snickering by themselves. She wraps her arms around her tiny, lithe frame in an effort to keep warm. Meanwhile, the birthday party continues, unaware of the child that is freezing outside. Charlotte or Charlie, as her father lovingly calls her, knows her chances of rescue are rapidly shrinking with each passing minute. A flash of lightning lights up the sky, the booming thunder almost masking the roar of the car engine as it drives through the alley. Charlie’s heart nearly leaps out of her chest as she sees the car, it seemed her prayers had been answered. Her hopes are prematurely crushed for a moment when she notices that the driver, a tall, well-dressed man, isn’t her father. Instead, it’s her father’s best friend and business partner, William Afton.</p><p>“Uncle Will!” she shouts in relief.</p><p>William looks around the alley, before his eyes rest upon her shivering form, flashing her a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Charlie, unable to contain her relief any longer, runs up to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his leg while tears streak her pale face. Her uncle stumbles back for a moment, the action taking him by surprise, but he returns the gesture all the same.</p><p>“Charlie! What are you doing all alone out here? You should be inside enjoying the birthday party.”  He says, his voice laced with concern. No longer able to contain her emotions, she breaks down, her voice cracking as she speaks.</p><p>“The other girls locked me out, Uncle Will. They were calling me names and saying mean things about you and daddy.”</p><p>William nods understandingly. People had always given them odd looks and made their assumptions about the exact nature of their relationship.  He had lost his wife a few years ago, while Henry’s wife had left him. They had found comfort and solace in each other’s company, two single fathers trying to get by as best as they can. He runs a hand through her hair as he tries his best to comfort the crying child clinging to his leg like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood.</p><p>“Everything’s going to be alright. I promise.” And Charlie believes him because she’s eight years old and still believes in the small white lies adults tell their kids. Uncle William told her everything will be alright, and she trusts him completely. They must have been an odd sight to any onlooker, a tall man nearly bent double to hug the crying child that clings to his leg as the rain pours down on them, soaking them both down to the bone.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” William whispers as he grasps Charlie even closer.</p><p>She tries to speak up, she wants to ask her uncle what he is apologizing for, but the words are stuck in her throat.  Charlie looks up at him, noticing to her surprise that he is crying. She tries to speak up once more, resulting in her coughing up an alarming amount of blood. William notices the terrified look that she gives him. He gently lays her down, supporting her head with his free hand.</p><p>“Shhh, it will all be over soon.” He holds her hand as her life slips through his fingers. Afterwards, he leaves like a ghost into the night, unnoticed and unheard. No one had noticed Charlie’s disappearance, save one, The Security Puppet.  It had been built by Charlie’s father as a security measure to ensure that the famous missing children incident never happened again. Each child that visited the pizzeria was given a color-coded bracelet that relayed information to the Security Puppet, including the child’s real-time location. Having noticed that one of the children was missing, The Puppet crawled out of its box, in search of the child that had escaped its care. It was never built to endure harsh weather conditions, it’s glossy black paint was peeling away but still, it carried on. Even when its legs refused to work, it carried on, crawling on its stomach towards the still form of the child it had failed to protect. Slender arms covered in black and white stripes wrap themselves tenderly around the girl’s lifeless frame, hugging her closely while the endless rain mercilessly beats down.</p><p>***</p><p>They hold Charlotte’s funeral service with a handful of Henry’s closest friends and family. Throughout it all, William never once leaves Henry’s side, something for which Henry is incredibly grateful. He glances at William, the embodiment of serenity, as he greets one of Henry’s aunts with a courteous nod.  Nothing in his posture betrays the fact that William had suffered grievous losses of his own. His friend had lost his wife to cancer and two of his children had been the victims of unfortunate incidents.  It had changed William as a man, there were times when Henry didn’t recognize his old friend anymore. He’s shaken from his thoughts when said friend clasps his shoulder.</p><p>“How are you holding up?” William whispers as to not disturb the other mourners.</p><p>“Honestly, I’m still waiting for the moment I wake up from this nightmare.” He looks William in the eye.</p><p>“Does it… does it ever get better? This feeling, this knot in my stomach, does it ever go away?” He looks at William, pensively.</p><p>“The truth? I carry it with me every day, there isn’t a moment that goes by that I’m not thinking about them, my every waking moment I’m reliving their deaths, playing it back in my mind like the world’s most unrelenting VHS tape. I keep on thinking about how I could have prevented the accident, what I could have done differently. There are days when I just want to give up, but I push on, and every day it becomes a little easier to bear, the feelings never dissipate but they become more tolerable.”</p><p><em>“Liar!” </em>A voice shouts out, William jerks around in search of the voice’s owner but to no avail. He turns back around, meaning to ask Henry if he had heard anything but to his surprise Henry has disappeared.  William notices with a growing wariness that he is the only one left in the church as if the others have gone up in smoke.</p><p>“Henry?” He calls out hesitantly, his voice eerily reverberating through the deserted church.  Small, nimble footsteps like those of a child, resonate through the church, followed by the ringing of bells and laughter. A strange figure is standing in the middle of the aisle, black hollow eyes brimming with an unnatural intelligence as it looks straight at William. Purple stripes, reminiscent of tear stains running down the lower half of its face. Its mouth is twisted into something akin to a smile, exposing rows of sharp filed down teeth. The figure suddenly lurches forward with a speed that he hadn’t affiliated with the animatronic, closing the distance in a few determined strides. William finds himself unable to move, his legs had turned to jelly as the figure looms above him.  One of its hands wraps itself around his neck, applying enough pressure that leaves him feeling light-headed but not enough for him to pass out.</p><p>“What do you want?” he manages to croak out, his voice cracking.</p><p>The thing cocks its head as if deep in thought before applying more pressure on William’s neck.  The tendons in his neck are now tightly wound, ready to snap. His vision is quickly fading as he struggles for breath, clawing at the thing’s face.</p><p>The voice calls out once more.  <em>“Seeing you powerless is like music to me.”</em></p><p>The child’s giddy laughter is the last thing he hears as the thing snaps his neck like a twig.</p><p>***</p><p>
  <em>Darkness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sound of dripping water.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> <strike>The feeling of your sins crawling on your back.</strike> </em>
</p><p>William’s body trashes violently on the floor as if he had been just given an electric shock.</p><p>
  <em>“What happened? Where am I?”</em>
</p><p>His hand reaches out for his head only to stop midair as he examines it more closely. It looks like the digit of an animatronic which has seen better days, the once yellow synthetic fur now turned a pale green. Bits of rotting flesh and bone is peeking out between the cracks. William sighs with a non-existent breath. “<em>So, it wasn’t a dream.” </em> He slumps against the wall, the friction causing tiny sparks to fly. Outside the door, he can hear the other spirits shuffling about, mindlessly roaming the halls as they follow a preprogrammed path that had been wired into their AI. Should he consider it a blessing or a curse that he had retained most of his autonomy along with his memories?  Despite his autonomy, there were some aspects of the AI that even he couldn’t bypass.  One such detail was the internal clock that each animatronic had, a mechanical ingenuity that prevented the animatronics from roaming around after a designated hour. Unfortunately for him, the Springbonnie animatronic was one of them. There’s no way to tell the time in here but the familiar clicking of the suit’s joints tells him it’s nearing 6 AM. He mentally braces himself as the joints lock into place, its limbs going rigid. The suit’s eyelids flutter for a moment before he’s fully enveloped into darkness. </p><p>A last concrete thought fills his mind.  “<em>No more, <strike>please</strike><span class="u">.”</span></em></p><p>***</p><p>William nearly jumps out of his exoskeleton when he’s rudely awakened by the sound of a slamming door. <em>“Were those kids raised in a barn or something?”</em></p><p>He pulls himself from the floor, stretching his limbs despite his body having no actual need for the action.  He glances around the room where he has spent the last few years or even <em>decades</em>. The same old children's drawings stare back at him, the paper curling around the edges from the room’s humidity or the air current that has them in its sway.</p><p><em>“Where is that breeze coming from?” </em> He takes another look around the room and is surprised to find that the wooden boards that barred the entrance to the safe room are gone. He has to fight down the urge to blindly run through the doorway only to find out that he was trapped in another nightmare.  Forcing himself to move as calmly as possible, William carefully steps outside into the dimly lit hallway. How long had it been since he had been imprisoned in the storage room? Years, decades?</p><p>His right-hand tracks the faded black and white racing stripes adorning the walls, how long had it been since he had spilled innocent blood, how long had it been since he doomed himself to this existence?   A noise startles him out of his train of thought. He notices he’s still standing in the same hallway, but something is different, he realizes with sudden clarity that he’s no longer in Freddy Fazbear’s.  This place is designed the same way, they even managed to get the children’s drawings on point, but he can feel it in the air, the very atmosphere here, it’s too clean. It feels like a well-fabricated lie and he should know, he’s lived through one. As William explores the remaining rooms, he can’t help but admire the work they must have gone through to create something so close to the original not to mention the amount of money it must have cost them.  He fails to notice the whirring security cameras following his every movement.</p><p>
  <em>“If they based this place on the original, then the security office should be coming up on my left.”</em>
</p><p>His presumption proves correct as he peers through the dirty window that looks directly into the office, seeing someone sitting at the desk. The night guard hasn’t reacted yet to his presence, so he takes this as a good sign to venture forth. He moves as quietly as possible, which is a feat in itself considering the bulkiness of the Springbonnie suit. He’s now standing directly next to the desk, where a blissfully unaware night guard is dozing off. If William’s face could still show emotions he would be smirking as he carefully reaches out a hand to nudge the sleeping guard in the shoulder. The guard, caught by surprise, falls unceremoniously out of her chair. She hits the ground, hard.  She looks up at the hulking form of the animatronic, confusion written on her features as she raises an arm in defense. A similar scene comes to William’s mind as he watches the guard cower in fear.</p><p>
  <em>The blonde pigtailed girl looks up at Springbonnie, all thoughts of the birthday party are discarded when she sees the knife in his hand. He slits her throat first, while the other children watch on in horror.</em>
</p><p>The sounds of chiming bells combined with children’s laughter breaks the stalemate. William feels his entire body going rigid at the sound, he can only look on as his feet move on their own accord, back towards the storage room where he first woke up. His body slumps against the wall, and he realizes in growing horror that he is once again a prisoner, only this time in his mind.</p><p>A killer in a cage.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Don't Take Anyone To Be Your Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A relucant nightguard finds a creative way to deal with her problems.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had traded one prison for another, but there was a small piece of comfort knowing there were no other ghosts here but him. Still, that didn’t mean his life had become any easier. There are unwritten rules in this place and some of them he had to learn the hard way.</p><p>
  <em>Rule number 1: There is no escape. </em>
</p><p>He had tried sneaking out the building after his first night, having made it to the exit before an invisible barrier stopped him dead in his tracks. No matter how much he tried, he was physically incapable of crossing the threshold. He’s not sure whether it’s due to the suit’s programming or a more supernatural influence but either way, he would be stuck here until he found a solution.</p><p>
  <em>Rule number 2: Curfews are in place.</em>
</p><p>William’s taken aback when the suit powers down a couple of hours after his confrontation with the night guard. Shock soon makes places for cold realization as he remembers that the old animatronics were bound to a day and night mode in order to keep their joints from locking up. It doesn’t matter, he’s confident that he can overwrite the system, after all, he helped Henry design it all those years ago. He bides his time, patiently waiting until he hears the telltale clicking of the joints unlocking. As he carefully reaches inside the suit’s chest cavity; he can’t help but flinch as his fingers brush over the remnants of his torn corpse.</p><p>“Don’t think about it too much”. He scolds himself. “It could drive you crazy.” A streak of white-hot pain has him reeling backwards, he quickly pulls out his arm, which is draped in pieces of decaying flesh and bone. William shakes his arm in disgust. “It’s useless.”</p><p>
  <em>Rule 3: Don’t mess with the night guard. </em>
</p><p>He can’t help but notice the cameras following his nightly exploring with meticulously precision. William hasn’t laid eyes on the night guard after their first meeting and she seems hell-bent on keeping it that way. If she would so much as suspect that he was nearing the office, she would play this ear-grating sound that was supposed to resemble children laughing. Whenever this happened, he or rather the AI in the suit felt compelled to search for the child. He finds himself being led on a wild goose chase more often than he cared to admit. William can’t help but contemplate the life choices that brought him here as the suit powers down for the day.</p><p>“I hate my life.”</p><p>***</p><p>Jennifer Mercer was seriously reconsidering her recent career choices. At first, she had been blinded by the amount of money the night guard gig paid, it was in combination with her work at the local hospital more than enough to cover general expenses and her mother’s bills. It was a shame that the job description didn’t mention the risk of being torn limb from limb by an overgrown Duracell Bunny from Hell. The guys from work had even given it a nickname, Springtrap, <em>how charming.</em> Jennie shudders, it hadn’t looked so charming last night, the way it had loomed over her.</p><p>A polite cough shakes her out of her thoughts. She looks up into the freckled face of Sean Brackett, a young intern at the Greenwood Medical Clinic and a good friend of hers.</p><p>“Sorry to bother you, miss Mercer but I was hoping you could take over one of my patients?” He wrings his hands nervously.</p><p>Jennie gives him her most composed smile. Sean had always insisted on addressing her as a superior despite her protests. Jennie thought the boy might have been intimidated by their age difference, there were nearly ten years between them, or perhaps he had been raised like that.</p><p>“What seems to be the problem, Sean?” He blushes, causing the already pale texture of his face to stand out even more in the bright TL-lights.</p><p>“My patient refuses to be treated by someone from the opposite sex.”</p><p>Jennie can’t help but raise an eyebrow in question. It was very uncommon for patients to request a different nurse. Perhaps it was for religious reasons? Jennie gives him a reassuring shoulder pat.</p><p>“I’ ’ll see what I can do, which room is she in?”</p><p>“Room 3.” He hands her the patient’s clipboard; Jennie gives it a thorough read as she makes her way to the examination room. The girl in room 3 looks up, judging from the mascara stains smeared across her face, she had been crying mere moments ago. Jennie pulls up a chair next to the examination table, mentally assessing the situation before her.</p><p>
  <em> “Fifteen, maybe sixteen years old, several hospital admissions in the last few months, all of them for various injuries ranging from bruises to sprained limbs. Could it be that someone in her family is abusing her?”</em>
</p><p>“Hi, my name is Jennie, what’s yours?”</p><p>The girl wipes away the tears with the back of her hand. “Allison.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Allison, can you tell me why you came to the ER today? And where are your parents, do they know you’re here?”</p><p>Allison shakes her head. “My boyfriend dropped me off. I was staying at his place when I fell down the stairs.”</p><p>The girl points to her arm at this, the limb dangling uselessly to her side. Jennie pulls out a pair of latex gloves from the cabinet on her left.</p><p>“Mind if do a quick check-up?”</p><p>Allison shakes her head again. Jennie gently takes the girl’s arm, carefully examining it while scanning the girl’s face for any sign of discomfort.</p><p>“The good news is that your arm isn’t broken, it’s sprained though so I’m going to write you a prescription for some Ibuprofen and you’ll have to rest it for at least 3 to 4 weeks. ‘I’d also recommend putting some ice on it, at least twice a day.”</p><p>Allison nods vigorously, seemingly to leave. Jennie opens the door while giving the girl some last-minute advice. “My door is always open and anything you say stays within this room, doctor-patient confidentiality.”</p><p>Allison nods, running out the door and into the arms of a jacked-up young man who possessively throws an arm around the young girl’s shoulders.</p><p>Jennie watches on as the two have a heated argument about something, the boyfriend casting suspicious glances at her while Allison is trying her best to placate him. Jennie’s already preparing to give the boyfriend a piece of her mind if he decides to come over, but the boyfriend decided that causing a scene at the hospital wasn’t worth his time. Jennie watches on, dismayed, as they leave the hospital together but not before the boyfriend casts one last dirty look in her direction.</p><p>Jennie sighs. “You can’t save them all, I suppose.”</p><p>The rest of her shift went by uneventful, something for which Jennie was thankful.</p><p>She’s just sipping from her 5th cup of joe when a text alert from Fazbear’s Fright has her spitting out her coffee.</p><p>
  <em>Quick heads-up: the audio system will be offline tonight. Stay safe!</em>
</p><p>“Seriously? Can this day get any worse?” she rants to Sean, who gives her a sympathetic shrug.</p><p>She grabs her purse, intent on leaving for her night job when one of the patients in the waiting room catches her eye. A boy, no more than six or seven years old is playing with a remote-controlled car, a look of disinterest on his face that seems more appropriate to someone thrice his age. An idea starts to form, a crazy idea fueled by an overdose of caffeine and sleep deprivation, but it might just work.</p><p>Jennie ignores the bewildered looks of the other patients when she steps towards the boy and says: “Nice car, I’ll give you 20 dollars for it.”</p><p>***</p><p>
  <em>11.59 PM </em>
</p><p>
  <em>12.00 PM</em>
</p><p>William slowly lifts himself from the floor, absentmindedly stretching his limbs despite his body having no need for the action. He shuffles out of the room, without a clear goal in mind.</p><p>
  <em>“Another night in this hellhole.” </em>
</p><p>He walks through the attraction, his thoughts wandering. He notices that the cameras are once again working overtime, but he pays it no heed. He’s about to turn back to the storage room when a white blur catches his eye as it races down the corridor.</p><p>
  <em>“What was that?”</em>
</p><p>Intrigued, he decides to investigate. For the next hour, he finds himself chasing down the blur until he manages to corner it in one of the backrooms.</p><p>What he finds, surprises him. <em>“It’s a children’s toy, a remote-controlled car on batteries. It looks just like the one I gave Michael for his sixth birthday. "</em> </p><p>His thoughts turn to his oldest son for the first time in years, perhaps even decades.</p><p>
  <em>“I wonder what became of him. We didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms.” </em>
</p><p>William’s too busy reminiscing about his shortcomings as a father to notice that the toy was once again moving into the hallway. He’s shaken out of his thoughts when the tape recording starts playing through the hallway. He loudly curses as his body tenses up at the sound, once again he is forced to search for a nonexistent child because of the suit’s programming.</p><p>
  <em>“I swear to God when I get my hands on that toy.” </em>
</p><p>William had never considered himself to be a religious man, instead, he had always put his faith into cold, hard facts but now he found himself thanking whatever deity would listen as the batteries in the toy had finally run out of power. The temptation to crush the toy and be done with it is overwhelming but he gets a better idea when he notices the cameras frantically searching for something.</p><p>***</p><p>Jennie’s confidence in her little set-up grows when she notices that Springtrap has taken the bait, as he follows the toy car, seemingly enthralled by its movement and noise. It reminds her of a cat chasing a red dot. Her confidence only grows as the night progresses, it seemed like she might be able to survive this night unscathed. And then the toy car stops moving. The docking system on her desk tells her that the iPod she connected to the sound system lost the signal.</p><p>
  <em>“Shit, shit, shit. “ </em>
</p><p>She can feel her heartbeat racing as she anxiously observes the camera system, searching for the faintest sign of Springtrap.</p><p>
  <em> “Where is it?!”</em>
</p><p>Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of fingers tapping on the window outside the security office is enough to make her blood run cold. Reluctantly, she looks up to see an irritated Springtrap standing behind the glass, its features twisted in something that she can only describe as sheer exasperation. She watches on, paralyzed in her seat, as the animatronic slowly shuffles into the office, the toy car firmly clutched in one hand. She barely registers the toy sailing inches next to her head, only for it to hit the wall behind her, breaking into tiny pieces. Her gaze is fixed on the broken-down animatronic, which seems to nod with approval, before shuffling back into the depths of the attraction. A chiming bell announces the end of her shift moments later, but Jennie finds herself unwilling or incapable of moving. She can’t help but think back on the emotions the animatronic had displayed just now. The way he had confronted her, the anger she had seen in its features. There was something frighteningly <em>human</em> about that animatronic, the way it acted, it felt wrong.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Help Me Make It Through The Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A nightmare about a significant event in William's life causes him to reach out to an unlikely ally.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>William noticed that the night guard had been awfully quiet the last few nights, not that he was complaining, it had given him a moment to contemplate his current situation. He had concluded that the night guard was the key to leaving this hell and in order to get her to help him, he would first need to gain her trust. Something which was easier said than done, given their earlier interactions. Tonight, he puts the first step of his plan into motion by slowly making his way to the security office. He can see the camera’s following him from the corner of his eye, but so far, his behavior hasn’t elicited a response from the night guard. Emboldened by the silence, he pushes on ahead until he is standing in front of the window. He makes sure to make eye contact with a bewildered night guard before he walks back towards the storage room. William continues this process for the next couple of nights, each time inching a little bit closer to the security office’s doorway. He’s come to think of the night guard as a science project, an experiment in the human condition to see if she can be manipulated to serve his goals. So far, the experiment had been satisfactory, she hadn’t reacted negatively yet to his nightly visits. Besides, if the experiment hit an unexpected snag, he would just have to terminate some unwanted factors from the equation. Finding the medical textbook discarded on the floor one night had been an unknown variable but it proved to be a blessing in disguise as it gave him a chance to take his experiment to the next level. It was time to see if the fruits of his labor had paid off. He takes his time making his way to the security office to lull the night guard into a false sense of security.  She doesn’t react until he stands in the doorway, her hand hovering over the audio system while her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for him to make a wrong move. He raises one hand in a non-threatening way while the other reaches for the book behind his back.  Slowly, making sure he doesn’t make any abrupt or sudden movements, he bends through his knees. The crackle of the suit’s joints resonates throughout the silent office. William gently places the book in front of him, his eyes scanning for her reaction. Her initial reaction is one of bewilderment, which is soon replaced with one of recognition, and lastly one of gratitude.</p><p>“Thank you” she whispers.</p><p>William nods his head in response as he turns on his heels and starts the slow trek back towards the storage room. He closes his eyes as a sense of accomplishment washes over him, as he had sown the first seeds of trust.</p><p>***</p><p>Elizabeth Afton is beyond excited to celebrate her birthday in her father’s latest restaurant, Circus Baby’s Pizza World.  She looks at the animatronic animals singing and dancing on stage while children of various ages are running around. The smell of birthday cake and lukewarm pizza fills the air along with excited screams. A feeling of perfect bliss fills Elizabeth’s soul but she can’t help but feel that something’s missing. She glances around the room in search of the distinct purple suit and tie her father insists on wearing wherever he goes but to no avail. A thought crosses her mind, perhaps her father was making the last adjustments to her birthday gift. He had mentioned to her before that the animatronic he was building for her was one of a kind. Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Elizabeth makes her way to the storage room where her birthday gift is waiting for her. To her surprise, her father isn’t working on the animatronic, a humanoid girl that reminds her of the clowns she once saw in the circus. She’s about to go back to the party, she knows she isn’t allowed alone with the animatronics when the clown girl speaks.</p><p>“Would you like a balloon? Or maybe some ice-cream?” The animatronic asks, blue eyes meeting green ones.</p><p>Elizabeth inches closer, caution thrown to the wind, after all, her father had made this animatronic as a birthday gift for her, surely it wasn’t dangerous.</p><p>“What’s your favorite flavor?” The animatronic inquires in a sing-song voice.</p><p>“Strawberry!” Elizabeth blurts without thinking.</p><p>A few seconds pass before the animatronic stretches out its hand, a cone with two scoops of strawberry ice-cream on it.</p><p>“Would you like some?”</p><p>Elizabeth inches closer, her fingers outstretched until she can almost reach her desired prize. She is just about to reach for the cone when the animatronic’s stomach opens up, revealing a giant steel claw. Before she can even respond, the claw’s pincers envelop her frail body, dragging her kicking and screaming into the darkness of the animatronics’ chest cavity. Outside, the birthday party continues without her.</p><p>Elizabeth’s father is a busy man, often buried head deep in some schematics that need revising, even on his daughter’s birthday the work never stops coming.  He silently promises to make this up to her later tonight, when he unveils the birthday present, he had been working on. A blaring alarm interrupts his thoughts, a quick check-up reveals that something is wrong with the scooper, a device whose single purpose was to clean the animatronics after rental jobs.</p><p><em>“There has to be an easier way to do this,”</em> he thought. He’s mentally assessing various methods to improve the process when he hears a squelching noise under his feet. Looking down, he notices with growing horror that the floor of the scooping room is slick with blood. His eyes dart to the animatronic that is currently being scooped, the one he called ‘Circus Baby’. The one he had intended to gift to Elizabeth.</p><p>
  <em>“No. Not her as well.”</em>
</p><p>He inches closer, his shoes making sloshing noises as he wades through the pools of blood, the animatronics’ stomach is wide open, revealing a bundle of rags in the storage compartment.</p><p><em>“Please God, don’t let it be her.” </em> The corpse was shredded beyond recognition, an amalgamation of flesh and clothes but deep in his heart, he knew the truth.</p><p>
  <em>“I guess you forgot about me”’</em>
</p><p>William wakes up in a metaphorically cold sweat, frantically looking around half expecting to see the inside of the scooping room and its gruesome contents. His body starts to uncontrollably twitch, a state which alerts the night guard several hours later.</p><p>***</p><p>Jennie’s surprised when Springtrap misses their unspoken nightly appointment, for an AI it seemed quite punctual, but she doesn’t dwell on the matter further. It isn’t until she sees his spasming body on the cameras that she realizes something’s very wrong.</p><p>
  <em>“What is going on? A malfunction in his circuits or could this be one of his tricks?  Either way, I have to check on him.”</em>
</p><p>She throws down the book she had been reading on the desk, it’s part of her job to ensure the merchandise doesn’t get damaged, so with a heavy heart, she drags herself to the storage room, her flashlight illuminating the darkness ahead. The light shines upon Springtrap’s twitching body, the scene reminding her of a patient she had once treated who had a severe case of focal seizures.</p><p>“Are you alright?” She hesitantly asks.</p><p>The animatronic snaps its head up so quickly that she can hear the cables in its neck straining from the sudden movement. A shiver runs through her spine when it’s glazed eyes rest upon her, as it stretches one hand out towards her, the jaws of the suit furiously open and snap shut as if it’s trying to call out to someone. Ignoring the growing ball of fear in her stomach, she scrapes her throat, catching the animatronics’ attention. It looks at her, its eyes shining with a sudden clarity that wasn’t there moments before.</p><p>“You were twitching pretty violently just now; I came to check up on you, it being my job and all that.” She fiddles with her hands, unsure of how to proceed.</p><p>“So, I’m just going to stick around, to make sure everything is alright.” She takes a seat on the floor, her back leaning against the wall.  She pulls out her phone, scrolling through her social media feeds while covertly keeping an eye on the animatronic, looking for the slightest sign of movement or abnormal behavior. The chiming of bells announces the end of her shift an hour later but she’s reluctant to leave. What if the animatronic starts twitching again, or worse? She can’t stick around forever though; she has to cover one of Sean’s shifts later today.</p><p>Jennie stands up, wiping the dust from her pants.  “I have to go now, but will you be alright?”</p><p>Springtrap looks at her questioningly, as if it couldn’t comprehend why anyone would care for its wellbeing before blinking twice in rapid succession. She nods, relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about the animatronic breaking down when she’s gone.</p><p>“See you tonight then.” And with that, she leaves a brooding William to his own devices.</p><p>***</p><p>William mentally chastises himself for allowing the night guard to see him in his moment of weakness. He had hoped that the nightmares were a manifestation of the malevolence of the spirits and now that he was no longer in their proximity, they would seize, but it seems that even here he can’t escape the constant barrage of memories. While it was demeaning that the nightguard had seen him in such a sorry state, he might be able to use last night’s events to his advantage. It was obvious that the night guard genuinely cared for him, partly because he was her responsibility. But she didn’t have to stay with him in person, she could have easily monitored him from the comfort of the security office, instead, she had chosen to support him by staying nearby. All of this told him that she was an empathic person, someone he could easily manipulate into aiding him. Tonight, he would test the limits of her pliability by requesting her aid with something he had been struggling with. He slowly makes the trek towards the security office, making sure he announces his presence by lightly tapping on the doorframe. The night guard looks up from the book she’s reading, a ghost of a smile on her face.</p><p>“You’re looking better tonight, everything alright?”</p><p>William makes a so-so gesture with one hand before indicating to his throat.</p><p>“Is there something wrong with your throat? I’m no engineer or anything but I could take a look at it if you want me to.” She says.</p><p>William pretends to mull over her proposition for a while before giving her an affirmative nod.</p><p>“Great.” She stands up from her chair. “But before we begin, I’d like to lay down some ground rules. I’ll help you to the best of my abilities, but I expect you to be on your best behavior. That means no biting or any other things that could cause bodily harm to me.”</p><p>She reaches out her hand. “Do we have an understanding?”</p><p>William gives her a perplexed look, even now, trapped in the springlock suit, she treats him as a fellow human being. He takes her hand into his, lightly shaking it. His grip must have been too strong for her as she winces at the exchange.</p><p>“So, let’s get started.” She looks up at him as if just seeing him for the first time, she had to stand on the tips of her toes to be able to look him in the eye.</p><p>“On second thought, let me pull up a chair.” She lifts herself unceremoniously onto the office chair while she grabs the flashlight that hangs on her belt.</p><p>“Now, I’m going to need you to open your mouth as wide as you can.”</p><p>William obediently does as he’s told, slowly revealing the interior of the springlock suit and its contents. If he were capable of breathing, he would be holding his breath as he anxiously awaits the moment, she discovers the truth about him. The flashlight shines on the smooth surface of a human skull and Jennie recoils at the sight, her arms flailing about as she struggles to maintain her balance. William grabs ahold of the chair, stabilizing Jennie’s foothold. He looks at her, concerned. He doesn’t know how to proceed if she got cold feet now.</p><p>“I’m fine, you just took me by surprise that’s all.  I got to ask, that’s not a prop, is it?”</p><p>William slightly shakes his head.</p><p>Jennie nods. “I expected as much but I needed to be sure. I tend to see a few corpses in my profession, but they are rarely this decomposed. I have like a million questions I’d like to ask you right now but those will have to wait.”</p><p>William once again opens the suit’s jaws, allowing Jennie to carefully navigate her hand between the open jaws as she maneuvers her fingers deeper into the suit. She flinches a little when her fingers brush against the decaying corpse inside the suit, but she pushes on, forcing her arm further inside until her fingers close around a soft piece of fabric. The fabric refuses to budge despite her tugging.  Pulling harder, the piece of cloth suddenly comes free, causing her to scratch her arm on the suit’s teeth. Jennie holds the piece of cloth in the air like a trophy, a tiny trail of blood flowing down her arm.  She examines the piece of cloth more closely, the original color is hard to discern from all the faded blood spatters on it, but she guesses it could have been a shade of purple once.</p><p>A gruff cough reminds her that she isn’t alone. She turns around to Springtrap who is forcibly putting his jaws back into place.</p><p>“Th-thank-you.” He says, his voice strained from the years of disuse. Jennie gives him a small nod, relieved that her delicate operation was a success.</p><p>“You’re welcome, I’m Jennie by the way.” </p><p>“Will-William.”</p><p>“Nice, to meet you, William.”</p><p>“You-you’re hurt.” He points to her arm, a small trickle of blood streaming down.</p><p>Jennie glances at the small abrasion. Her nursing instincts kick in as she quickly grabs the first-aid kit to disinfect the wound. After tending to her wounds, she motions William to take a seat, across from her. She waits until he sits, cross-legged on the floor, before she addresses the situation, they find themselves in.</p><p>“So, I’m sure you have a lot of questions and so do I, to be honest. So why don’t we take turns?”  Jennie suggests.</p><p>William nods, he’s curious to find out more about this place, and right now, she is his best source for answers.</p><p>“I don’t mean to be disrespectful or rude, but I have to ask. What are you?”</p><p>William had expected this question, of course, she would be curious after finding his corpse in the suit.  So, he had prepared a cover-up story that would sate her curiosity without giving away too many details about his true identity.</p><p>“I- I was a nightguard.  Unt-ntil died in a spring-springlock accident. Next thing I kn-knew, I woke up in a storage room, all-all alone.”</p><p>Jennie gives him a horrified look, she can’t begin to imagine the pain and suffering he must have endured. And now she had to give him the harsh reality of how long he had to endure those conditions.</p><p>“We’re in Fazbear’s Fright right now, a horror attraction based on the original Fazbear pizzeria’s, it mirrors the original location in every conceivable way, the owners made sure of that. They recently found out that someone had found an animatronic from the original place.” She gestures at William.</p><p>“They brought you over here, a week ago, intending to open this place next month, just in time for Halloween.”</p><p>“How long? How long was I trapped in that storage room?”</p><p>Jennie avoids his gaze for a moment, hesitant to break the hard news.  “Thirty years, give or take.”</p><p>The room remains silent for a long while after that, as William tries to wrap his head around the fact that he had spent the last thirty years trapped in the backroom of a pizzeria.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Believe In Him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jennie learns that William is a sore loser when it comes to boardgames and helps him gain some autonomy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jennie couldn’t help but mull over William’s situation. It was clear to her, from their interactions, however, limited they might they be, that William was damaged in more than one way. Looking back, she didn’t blame him for lashing out at her earlier when she had harassed him with the toy car. Jennie had treated him as some advanced AI, never considering that there might be more to him.  She couldn’t even begin to fathom what kind of impact the circumstances of his death and the subsequent aftermath had left on his mental state. The feeling of helplessness that he must have felt, trapped, all alone in that storage room. How he must feel now, knowing that he has skipped out on the last thirty years, it would be a heavy burden to carry for anyone. She wanted to help him, not only because she felt bad about the way she had treated him earlier, but because if their situations were reversed, she would want someone to help her too. Thirty years was a long time for someone to go missing, that is if Fazbear’s had even reported William missing or made up some ridiculous cover story.  It was obvious that his death and every subject encompassing it was a delicate subject, naturally of course, so in order to lift William’s spirits, figuratively speaking, Jennie had brought some board games from home.  It didn’t take her long, however, to regret coming up with the idea in the first place. They were about a half-hour into Monopoly and William was constantly questioning the game’s rules.</p><p>” I don’t know why you have to go to jail; the card doesn’t explain it either.”</p><p>An exasperated huff.</p><p>“Am I not innocent until proven otherwise? What am I being charged with?” William asks irritated.</p><p>Jennie shrugs, honestly, he was looking way too deep into it. “I don’t know, it’s Monopoly, so probably tax evasion or maybe fraud.”</p><p>William’s left ear starts twitching as he shouts: “This is absolute poppycock!”</p><p>He dramatically places his pawn on the jail tile while muttering about the inequity of such a corrupted system. The game officially reaches rock-bottom when William tries to build a house on one of his properties.</p><p>“You need to have the entire street before you can build a house.” Jennie helpfully explains.</p><p>“But you have the last piece I need; I don’t suppose you would be willing to sell it to me?” He asks as persuasively as possible.</p><p>“No way, the rent on this street is too good to pass up.”</p><p>They unanimously decide after cleaning up the scattered pieces and failing to tape the torn game board back together that Monopoly would be banned from here on out. Uno followed suit an hour later when William was on the receiving end of a draw 4 wild card just when he was about to win. His mood had quickly deteriorated after that to the point where he lashed out at Jennie when she announced that she was going home.</p><p>“I’ll be here, waiting until you come back, a prisoner inside this shell, immovable and desolated, as I keep staring at the walls, feeling my sanity slipping away with each passing day.” He snapped as he moved to return to the storage room.</p><p>“Wait.” She moved in front of him, blocking his way. “Are you saying that you are incapable of movement during the day? How’s that even possible?”</p><p>Even with the suit’s limited capability for expressing emotions, there was no mistaking the sneer on William’s features when he speaks. “The animatronics used to have a free-roaming mode to keep their servos from locking up from disuse. The same goes for the springlock suits. I guess that the system is defective, it’s no longer capable to switch between modes.”</p><p>The more Jennie learned about William’s predicament, the more sympathy she felt for his cause. He had endured so much hardship these last thirty years and yet he still carried on, clinging to his lost humanity.</p><p>“As I said, I’m no engineer but I could take a look at it tomorrow night if you want.” Jennie proposes.</p><p>“Fine,” William says in a less gravelly voice than usual.</p><p>“Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to fix this I promise.”</p><p>***</p><p>“So, what do you want me to do?”</p><p>“There should be a switch inside the suit’s chest cavity that regulates free-roaming mode, you’ll have to manually access it.” He explains.</p><p>“Sounds easy enough, though that means I’ll have to come in contact with your remains again, are you okay with that?”</p><p>He shrugs. “It’s not like I can feel anything anymore.”</p><p>Jennie wasn’t looking forward to digging around inside the suit again, but at least this time she brought some gloves from work with her.</p><p>“Alright then, let’s get this over with, shall we?”</p><p>Jennie reaches for her flashlight while William opened the maintenance panel inside his chest.</p><p>“So, what am I looking for?” she asks while adjusting her flashlight.</p><p>“I’m not sure, I guess you’ll just have to find out through trial and error.”</p><p>Jennie can’t help but repress a shudder as the flashlight reveals the disarray that is William’s mangled remains. It was virtually impossible to tell where the circuitry started, and the remaining organic portion of his body ended. Jennie hesitantly reaches inside the chest cavity; maneuvering her hand carefully as to not come into contact with his corpse. It isn’t long until her fingers enclose around a small metal object, which after some probing, revealed that it could be flicked up and down.</p><p>“Did that work?” she inquires; one hand still elbow-deep inside William’s corpse.</p><p>“I don’t ...’, he stops mid-sentence, as his body goes rigid, unseeing eyes staring into the distance.</p><p>“William?” She hesitantly gives him a nudge, but he doesn’t respond to her prodding.</p><p>Jennie getting worried that she might have broken him, freaks out when William suddenly jumps back to life, green eyes meeting grey orbs.</p><p>“Are you alright?” she asks worriedly.</p><p>He raises one hand in a greeting as if seeing her for the first time.</p><p>“Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-up alike, where fantasy and fun come to life.” The gruffness of his voice is gone, replaced by a frolicsome tone that she didn’t think he was capable of.</p><p>Alarmed by the sudden sales pitch, Jennie slowly reaches for the button again, while maintaining eye contact with William, just in case. His entire demeanor changes the moment she flicks the switch, his shoulders visibly stiffen while his damaged ear starts twitching. </p><p><em>“If his body were still capable of it, he would probably be blushing right about now.” </em>Jennie thinks.</p><p>William leans closer towards her until their faces are only inches apart. </p><p>“We never speak of this again,” William growls threateningly in her ear.</p><p>Jennie nods vigorously, though she can’t help but smile at the thought of William acting all cheery and happy-go-lucky.   Once again, she reaches into his chest cavity, as she carefully navigates past the wires and decaying pieces of flesh. This time her hand encloses around a rough piece of metal, that upon further inspection gives a little leeway when she tries twisting it. Applying more force, the corroded metal starts squeaking in protest from years of disuse. Putting all the strength she can muster into it; she manages to turn the valve all the way.  She pulls her hand back while putting some distance between them as she watches and waits for something to happen.</p><p>When it doesn’t look like William might burst into song, Jennie asks: “so, did it work?”</p><p>William’s about to respond when the chiming of bells announces the end of her shift. “I guess we’re about to find out,” he says.</p><p>He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, mentally steeling himself for the possibility that their operation had been to no avail. Hesitantly, he flexes one hand experimentally. Emboldened by this small success, William takes another step forward. Jennie gives him a thumbs-up, relieved that their undertaking had not been in vain. She’s surprised however when William’s excitement turns to melancholy as he sits down on the floor, cradling his head in his hands. She kneels beside him, one hand hesitantly hovering over his shoulder, before gently placing it down.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Jennie asks, her voice laced with worry.</p><p>William slowly raises his head until their eyes meet.  “What good is freedom, when one can’t utilize it?”</p><p>The statement had Jennie at a loss for words, what she had seen as a small victory was nothing more than another stepping stone in an endless road. While William might have regained some freedom, it would never be enough, it couldn’t take away the fact that he was still trapped in this place.</p><p>“We’ll find a way to get you out of here, I promise.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Before My Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jennie gets a distress call from her mother.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The call came in about an hour after she had finished her shift at the hospital.</p><p>
  <em>“What now?” </em>
</p><p>Jennie reluctantly picked up the phone, she just wanted to get home to sleep a few more hours until her shift at Fazbear’s started.</p><p>“Jennifer Mercer, how can I help you?”</p><p>“Miss Mercer, this is nurse Brooks from Lauderdale. I’m sorry to call you at this hour but it’s about your mother, Mrs. Hollis.”</p><p>“What about her?” Jennie replies in a more frantic tone.</p><p>“She had a seizure a few moments ago. The doctors managed to stabilize her, but we would request your presence, there are some things we need to discuss about your mother’s medical condition.”</p><p>The news hits her hard, her mother’s health had been slowly deteriorating after the incident with Jeremy, and a couple of years ago she was diagnosed with dementia, but she had always managed to pull through. The thought of losing her closest family overwhelmed her so much that she almost let the phone slip from her hand.</p><p>“Miss Mercer are you still there?” the nurse’s voice echoed through the speaker, shaking Jennie from her thoughts.</p><p>“Sorry about that, I’ll be right along. Goodbye.”  <em>*Click*.</em></p><p>Jennie arrives at Lauderdale, a nursing home for the elderly, two hours after the initial call. She climbed the familiar steps leading to the entrance, with a growing sense of forebodement.  Visitation hours wouldn’t start for another few hours, but Jennie had been given special clearance due to her mother’s situation.  The steady beeping of machines filled her ears as she slowly took in the sight before her. Her mother, Olivia, looked incredibly frail as she laid there in the hospital bed. Her skin had taken on the color of alabaster and if it hadn’t been for the steady beeping of the heart monitor, one would have mistaken her for a corpse.  Jennie slowly pulled up one of the visitor chairs, seating it next to the hospital bed. The action must have woken her mother as two dim green eyes met her own. Olivia’s face lit up, as she gazed upon the face of her daughter for the first time in weeks. She slowly stretches out one hand, which Jennie carefully grasps, she gives a small comforting squeeze.</p><p>“Mom, it’s me,” Jennifer says, her voice nearly a whisper.</p><p>“Jeremy, you came to visit.” The small smile that Jennie had permitted herself is shattered almost instantly as she realizes that her mother is once again confusing her with her dead brother. Tears start to well up in her eyes, but Jennie quickly wipes them away with the back of her hand.  She had hoped for a brief moment of clarity, but they were becoming scarcer as the disease progressed. </p><p>
  <em>Jeremy. It had always been about Jeremy with her mother. Ever since she can remember Jennie had to fill the shoes of a brother she never knew.  Growing up, I always tried my hardest to reach the impossible standards my mother had set for me, and still, it wasn’t enough for her. All my life I tried my hardest to be more like Jeremy and now she confuses me with him.  Do I have the right to desecrate her memories like this? Maybe it’s just better to enjoy the moments we have left together, even if mom thinks I’m someone else.</em>
</p><p>She stayed by her mother’s bedside for most of the day, alternating between keeping vigil over her and keeping up the pretense that she was her brother Jeremy. In no condition, physical or mental, to work her shift at Fazbear’s, Jennie called her boss Zach Fischer to inform him about her current situation. Zach picked up after the first two rings, answering the phone in a tone that would be better suited for a Californian surfer than a small business owner.</p><p>“Yo, Zach speaking.”</p><p>“Hey Zach, it’s Jennifer here. I’m calling because I won’t be able to come to work today. My mom had a seizure earlier today and I’m afraid to leave her alone right now.”</p><p>“Sorry to hear that Jen.” Zach voiced sympathetically. Zach was the only one who ever called her Jen, except for <em>him. </em> She had voiced that she hated the nickname a couple of times before to Zach, but he seemed oblivious to her complaints.</p><p>“I don’t think I can find someone on such short notice to take over your shift tonight.”</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Zach reassured her. “I’m sure our star attraction can handle one night on its own. You just take care of your mother for now and we’ll deal with this later, okay?”</p><p>For the second time that day, Jennie has to fight the urge not to break down crying. “Thanks, Zach.”</p><p>
  <em>“I hope William will be okay tonight. He’ll probably be worried when I don’t show up tonight.” </em>
</p><p>She glances toward her mother, who in the brief time that Jennie was making her phone call, had fallen asleep. Jennie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the stress from today. She was barely asleep when her mother screams at the top of her lungs.</p><p>“Jeremy”’ her mother calls out.</p><p>“Mom, I’m here, what’s wrong?” Jennie tried to comfort her mother by taking her hand in hers but to no avail. Olivia trashed in the bed, her arms flailing about until she grabbed ahold of Jennie’s shoulder.</p><p>She could feel her mother’s nails digging into her flesh, almost deep enough to draw blood. </p><p>“I lost him; I lost my boy. Please, can you help me find him?”</p><p>Jennie was about to reply when her mother had another seizure, her eyes were rolling in their sockets and foam was starting to form at her mouth.</p><p>“Nurse!” Jennie shouted while she tried her best to hold her mother still, fearful that she might injure or bite off her tongue in this state.</p><p>The same nurse from before, the one who had called Jennie, rushed in. She quickly assessed the situation before giving Olivia a strong sedative. Olivia’s grasp on Jennie’s shoulder relaxed as her eyes slowly glazed over.</p><p>“It’s best if we let her rest for a while. The sedative will need some time to kick in. We’ll closely monitor her for now and I’ll let you know if her situation changes.”</p><p>Jennie nods understandingly.</p><p>“Goodbye mom, I’ll come back as soon as possible,” Jennie promised.</p><p> Her mother, twisting and turning in her bed, muttered something under her breath.</p><p>
  <em>“It was his birthday, you know.”</em>
</p><p>Jennie inched closer to the bed, her mother seemingly still asleep.</p><p>“Who’s birthday, mom?”</p><p>“Jeremy, he died on his birthday.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. That's What It Like To Be Lonesome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>William's p.o.v from the previous chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>William’s slightly worried when the clock strikes 1 AM and there’s still no sign of Jennie. Her sudden absence seemed out of character for her but there could be a multitude of reasons behind her nonappearance. He wanders aimlessly down the hallways, listening for the faintest sounds that would mark the nightguard’s arrival. A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s nearing 3 AM and there’s still no sign of Jennie.</p><p><em>“Perhaps she hadn’t been feeling well and had to call in sick”</em>, William thought.</p><p><em>“Or </em>a voice in his head whispered, <em>she’s not coming, she just lied to you like all the others, lulling you into a false sense of acquaintanceship, until she can pull the rug out from under you when she leaves you to rot here all alone for the rest of eternity.”</em></p><p>William shakes his head as if to clear his mind of the intrusive thoughts, but the voice continues on.</p><p>
  <em>“Did you actually think she cared about you?” the voice asks, disdain seeping through its tone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How pathetic.”</em>
</p><p>Feeling his legs buckle out from under him, William leans heavily against the nearest wall. His mouth quickly opens and closes, as if grasping for air. It feels as if the walls themselves are closing in on him and even now the voice relentlessly continues.</p><p>
  <em>“Why would you even try to deny what you really are? You thought that you could erase your past?”</em>
</p><p>The voice shifts in tone, becoming younger and more childlike with each expression. “<em>Our blood is still on your hands, even your children weren’t safe from you.”</em></p><p>
  <em>***</em>
</p><p>There was nothing she could do for her mother at the nursing home, so Jennie informed Zach that she would be resuming her shift as normal, starting tonight. The back door loudly creaks as she opens it, the sound ominously reverberating through the dark hallways.</p><p>
  <em>“That’s strange. Zach didn’t mention anything about a system reboot. Could it be a power outage?” </em>
</p><p>“William?” she hesitantly shouts into the darkness. No one answers. She reaches for the flashlight on her belt, the light flickers to life, driving back the shadows that make up the hallway but there is still no sign of William. Slowly making her way to the storage room, Jennie strains her ears for the faintest sounds but there’s nothing but the rhythmic thuds of her footsteps and the rapid beating of her heart.</p><p>“William!” She calls out to him once again, but no one answers. She’s finally made it to the storage room, hovering in the doorway. She shines the light of the torch around the empty room, her breath caught in her throat as she takes in the sight. The walls of the room are filled with text, almost every available inch is covered. Running a hand over the words she discovers that they have been scratched into the walls with some kind of tool. She slowly reads them aloud as her hand traces over the individual grooves.</p><p>
  <em>It’s me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can’t save them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m sorry.</em>
</p><p>She backs away from the wall, almost tripping over her feet as she tries to make sense of the sinister messages.</p><p>
  <em>“I need to make it to the security office; I’ll have a better chance of getting to the bottom of this there.”</em>
</p><p>Resisting the urge to break out into a run, Jennie slowly makes the trek towards the office, her heart pounding in her ears, she listens for the telltale sound of metal scraping over concrete.  She can’t help but elicit a shriek when she rounds the corner only to find cold, steel hands clamping around her neck, effortlessly lifting her in the air. </p><p>A gruff voice shouts in her face. “You abandoned me, I thought you were different!”</p><p>“William, I’m sorry...”</p><p>“Excuses!” He increases the pressure on her neck, making Jennie gasp for air. Gathering all the strength she can muster, Jennie swings the torch into William’s face, the flashlight connects with enough force that would leave a grown man cradling his jaw, but William isn’t fazed in the slightest. Violently yanking the torch out of her hands, he throws it down the hall, shattering the tool into pieces. Irritated by her futile attempt at self-preservation, William slams Jennie into the nearest wall with a bloodcurdling growl, knocking the air out of her as something audibly cracks.</p><p><em>“He broke one of my ribs. It won’t be long until I hear the snap of my neck unless I can do something.” </em>Jennie notes with cold dissociation.  </p><p>“William.” Jennie pleads, her voice barely a whisper at this point.</p><p>She looks into his eyes, seeing two grey orbs staring back at her with cold determination as he slowly but surely increases the pressure on her neck. Feeling her consciousness slipping, Jennie balls her hand into a fist, blindly striking out, hitting William square in the jaw. She can see a glint of surprise and hurt in William’s eyes as he unconsciously raises a hand to his face. The lower jaw of the suit is hanging loosely on its joint, the perpetual smile of the suit is replaced by a lopsided grin.  The grip on her necks has loosened just enough for Jennie to slip through. She lands unsteadily on her feet, her head swimming from the lack of oxygen, her throat raw. She staggers through the hallways, determined to put as much distance between them as possible, with William blocking the way to the exit, the only path forward leads her to the security office. Jennie’s constantly glancing over her shoulder, listening for the faintest sound of footsteps, she can almost feel his cold, steel hands wrapping around her neck, the pressure building until the last thing she hears is the sound of her neck breaking. Rounding the corner, the familiar sight of the office fills her heart with renewed energy. Bursting into the office, Jennie flicks on the camera system, frantically searching for any sign of William. She finds that he’s still standing in the hallway, where she left him, seemingly rooted to the spot. Rummaging through one of the desk drawers while keeping an eye on the cameras, Jennie fishes out the first aid kit that she brought with her on her first day on the job. The rush of adrenaline is finally wearing off and with it comes the painful throbbing of her injured right hand. Jennie treats her injuries to the best of her abilities with the limited resources at hand, she’s busy bandaging up her hand when she notices movement from the corner of her eye. On the screen, the figure of William has started to move, slowly but with a hint of determination in his step. Paralyzed with fear, Jennie watches in horror as the figure on the screen continues his trek towards the security office, towards <em>her. </em>Looking up, she manages to catch a glimpse of a shadow moving across the window looking into the office. Hesitantly, Jennie shifts her attention towards the doorway, where William stands waiting, his shoulders hunched, his eyes avoiding her gaze. Survival instincts kicking in, Jennie throws the first thing she can get ahold of towards him. William barely manages to avoid the desk fan that’s aimed for his head, the apparatus plunging to the ground. He raises his hands in a shushing manner, implying that he isn’t a threat <em>anymore.</em> He takes in Jennie’s general appearance, tears are streaking down her face, the notion of fear clearly visible in her eyes as she looks at him. No longer able to hold her gaze, he finds his eyes drifting down to her neck, the imprint of his hands distinctly standing out under the harsh LED lights. There was a time when he would have relished in such a display, taking in each detail as he savors the moment but now, he finds to his surprise that he <em>hates it. </em></p><p>“I’m sorry.” He says and even in his ears, it sounds hollow. He scrapes his throat, a pointless motion.</p><p>“There was an emergency, that’s why I wasn’t here last night,” Jennie explains, her voice strained.</p><p>She wants to say more but the chiming bells that announce the end of her shift interrupt her. She slowly stands up, alarming William when she suddenly clutches her right side as if in pain. He moves to help her, but she brushes him off, brusquely. ‘I’m fine.’</p><p>“What will you do now? With work and everything?”</p><p>Jennie shrugs, the action causing her to grimace in pain. “I’m not sure yet, to be honest.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. I can't Go on That Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>William seeks for a way to make amends for last night's ordeal and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>William’s pacing up and down the length of the security office, mentally beating himself up over last night’s events. He had always prided himself on being a level-headed individual, not one to be guided by emotions like his old friend Henry. And yet last night he had nearly killed his ticket out of here and for what? A misguided sense of abandonment that had been formed out of a false sense of companionship. He hits the wall in a blind rage, leaving a slight dent behind on the surface.</p><p>
  <em>“What happens if she decides that she no longer wants a part in this? Will they replace her with another night guard?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Or worse, what if she tells them the truth about me? They would barricade the doors, abandoning the attraction, and leave me to rot once more.”</em>
</p><p>The thought of spending another thirty years in this prison weighs down on William. His mangled ear is twitching erratically, his body spasming at the mere thought. And then he hears it, the muffled click of the backdoor. A glance at the camera reveals the silhouette of Jennie, standing in the doorway as she seemingly debates whether or not to enter. Moments later, he hears a timid voice shakily calling out his name, spurring him to action.</p><p>
  <em>“She came back! I need to find something to make amends, a sign of goodwill that will prove to her that I feel terrible about last night’s events.”</em>
</p><p>Catching sight of the vending machine in the corner of the office, an idea starts to take form. Like the rest of the place, the vending machine is covered in a layer of dust but as far as he can tell, it seems to still be in working order.</p><p><em>“Well, </em>William thinks, <em>it’s nothing special but it might do as a peace offering given the circumstances, we find ourselves in.”</em></p><p>He bends down next to the vending machine, carefully maneuvering his arm through the door flap, intent on procuring his idea of a peace offering. His hand encloses around the can but when he tries to retract his arm, he finds that it’s firmly stuck.</p><p>“Bloody hell.”</p><p>***</p><p>Unlocking the door with trembling hands, the dim hallway lights illuminate Jennie’s already pale complexion even more. Every fiber of her being is crying out to her to run, to turn her back on this place and the individual that dwells inside. Taking a deep breath, she silently reminds herself that she desperately needs this job if she wants to make ends meet and pay the ever-growing stack of her mother’s hospital bills. Her hand absentmindedly wanders to the taser that she had concealed in her purse, a grim remnant of a past she would rather forget. With a heavy heart, she pushes open the door, anxiously calling out to William. There’s no response. The darkness of the hallways seems to envelop her and for a second, she can feel phantom limbs reaching for her throat, intent on squeezing the life out of her when the illusion is broken by a voice calling out in the dark.</p><p>“Jennie?” William’s gruff voice yells out from somewhere in the maze of bleak hallways and corridors.</p><p> “I’m here, where are you?” she calls back, unable to keep her voice from shaking.</p><p>“The office.”</p><p>Jennie waits until her breathing becomes less erratic before slowly making her way towards the security office, her mind reeling with possibilities of what she might find there. Finding William with his arm stuck in a vending machine was pretty low on that list.</p><p>“What happened?” she asks perplexed.</p><p>William once again tries to pull himself free but to no avail. “I wanted to do something nice for you because of last night.”</p><p>Her stomach lurches at the mention of last night’s events. Feeling lightheaded, she stumbles over to the desk, where she unceremoniously drops down into the desk chair.</p><p>“I wasn’t sure if you would return tonight,” William confesses.</p><p>Jennie laughs mirthlessly. “Neither was I but here I am anyway. I must be out of out my mind or something.” She traces a hand over her sore throat, where two distinct bruises are slowly developing. She glances at William, who quickly turns his head away in shame.</p><p>“My mom fell sick last night, that’s why I wasn’t here.’  Jennie exclaims, tears glistening in the dim light of the office. One of the suit’s ears visibly drops as William offers his sympathies.  He wants to say more but he can tell by looking at Jennie’s ashen face that the conversation is weighing on her, so he drops the topic. They sit in silence for a while, until Jennie manages to work up the courage to ask the question that’s been on her mind since last night.</p><p>“Why? Why did you do it?” she asks in a tone that is something between accusation and concern.</p><p>William shakes his head regrettably. Last night’s events were something of a blur to him. He remembers feeling concerned about Jennie’s sudden absence as he paced up and down the empty hallways, waiting, hoping she would show up. He remembers feeling angry, distraught even and a <em>voice whispering into his ear, feeding into his fears, his darkest thoughts, his greatest failures. </em>Next thing he knows, he’s choking the life out of Jennie, his hands wrapped around her throat. Fortunately, she had managed to snap him out of his trance before he killed her.  Drawing a nonexistent breath, William recounts his side of the incident.</p><p>“At first, I was worried when you didn’t show up last night, my concern quickly turned into paranoia as I convinced myself that you had chosen to abandon me, leaving me to rot for the next few decades. I wasn’t thinking straight anymore by the time you showed up, the only thing on my mind was how you had abandoned me.”</p><p>Jennie nods, her gaze fixed on the floor. “When we first met, I thought that you were an advanced AI designed to cater to the needs of children and I treated you a such. Imagine my surprise when I found out that you <strike>were, </strike>are a human being with emotions, fears, and doubts. There are moments when the line blurs, like when we restored the suit’s programming and I have to remind myself that there is a human being trapped in there. I can’t even begin to fathom what you must have been through these past thirty years. Last night must have felt like I pulled the rug out from under you.”</p><p>Jennie looks up, her eyes meeting his. “I want to do better by you. I want to turn over a new leaf and leave last night’s business behind us.”</p><p>“So, let me start by getting you off that predicament.” She kneels beside him, pressing her hands against the dirty plexiglass of the vending machine as she tries to get a better view of the inner workings.</p><p>“You aren’t just holding on to the can, are you?” she asks, not taking her eyes off the machine but she catches sight of William’s surprised expression, one of the suit’s ears slightly droops as he turns his head, embarrassed.</p><p>“Of course not,” he replies as he briskly rips his arm out of the bowels of the vending machine, sending small sparks and fragments of metal flying. Sulking, William stalks over to the desk, where he drops down in the squeaking office chair. Jennie nonchalantly leans against the vending machine while keeping an eye on William. It’s obvious from his body language, the way he slumps in the chair, the drooping ears, that he isn’t in a good mood. Telling him that all the effort he went through tonight was in vain since the vending machine was a prop, might be better left for another time. William, meanwhile, is idly drumming his fingers on the desk, as he stares off in the distance. She can’t help but notice that the thumb and index finger on his right hand are completely worn down, exposing the bare endoskeleton underneath. An image flashes through her mind’s eye, <em>William mad with paranoia, digging his fingers into the wall of the storage room, slowly carving out an apology. But to who and what for? </em></p><p>“Does it hurt?”</p><p>William looks up, confused. “Does what hurt?”</p><p>Jennie points to his right hand, to the exposed endoskeleton beneath the suit’s fingers. William flexes the fingers of his damaged hand experimentally. “I’m no longer capable of feeling pain.”  Another lie to add to the ever-growing list. The truth was that his jaw was still numb from where Jennie’s boot had landed.</p><p>“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask about last night.”</p><p>William nods, indicating for her to continue. “I wanted to ask you about the writings I found in the storage room last night.”</p><p>It’s obvious from the pained look in his eyes that she has asked an emotionally loaded question. She starts to stammer something about him not having to talk about it when he raises a hand to silence her.</p><p>“It’s fine. You deserve some answers after all I’ve put you through last night.” He shifts in the chair as he takes a moment to clear his thoughts.</p><p>“I haven’t been completely honest with you until now, and for that I’m sorry. I couldn’t live with the truth, so I lied.” He sighs, drawing a non-existent breath from tattered lungs.</p><p>“Last night taught me that we cannot outrun our past, no matter how hard we try. I wasn’t lying when I said that I died in a springlock accident, but what I neglected to mention was that I triggered the springlocks on purpose.”</p><p>Jennie’s face turns pale at the confession. Judging from the extreme internal damage that she had seen when she had opened his chest cavity, his death must have been excruciatingly painful.</p><p>“I know what you must be thinking, what could compel someone to take their life in such a gruesome way? The truth is that I wasn’t thinking at all back then. The police had just shown up on my doorstep a couple of hours before, informing me that I had just lost my entire family to a drunk driver.”</p><p>A dry chuckle escapes his throat.</p><p>“You know what’s ironic? I had worked a grueling night shift the day at the pizzeria and my wife, bless her soul, didn’t want to wake me up, so she drove the kids to school that morning. A drunk driver ignored a stop sign and barreled into my wife’s car at full speed. The police officers told me they died on impact. A small solace. I could have saved them if only I wasn’t throwing my life away in that wretched pizzeria.” He rests his head in his hands, a broken man in a broken body. He looks up when a gentle hand is placed upon his shoulder, only to see Jennie offering her unspoken sympathy.</p><p>***</p><p>William’s busy reminiscing about the last few nights while dismantling the small beat up electronic that Jennie had referred to as a <em>tablet. </em>She had offered it to him as a peace offering the night after his so-called heartfelt confession. He had graciously accepted the gift under the guise of mending their relationship, and it had given him the means to pass the time during the day when she was at work. He had noticed small changes in her behavior after that, there were moments when she still walked on eggshells around him, like that time the suit started twitching uncontrollably and he knocked some things off the desk by accident, but those moments were lessening. Still, he couldn’t wrap his head around the enigma that was Jennie. Even after her near-death experience at <em>his </em>hands nonetheless, she had chosen to stay as a nightguard. No paycheck could be worth risking your life for, and yet she dutifully spent her nights here beside him. Even from the beginning, she had responded to him in a way that he hadn’t expected.  She had treated him with nothing but kindness after the initial shock that he was more than some advanced AI had subsided. He had manipulated her somewhat into helping him, sure, but she didn’t have to go out of her way as she did sometimes. William gazes down upon the tablet, now here was something he could understand. He had always preferred the company of cold, sterile machinery, perhaps even too much so.</p><p>
  <em>For a moment, the scene before him changes, rippling as it takes the form of a long-buried memory. A desk filled with various machinal parts, blueprints for his next big project, a forgotten mug of stale coffee. The shrieking of an alarm interrupts the serenity of the scene. Heavy footsteps sound as he runs to the scooping room, stopping dead in his tracks when he notices the pool of blood.  </em>
</p><p>He’s relieved when the desk phone rings, shaking him out of his morbid recollection of one of the worst nights in his life. He picks up without a second thought.</p><p>“It’s me. Mom had another seizure.” The sound of squealing tires breaks up the line for a second before Jennie continues. “I’m driving to the nursing home as we speak, will you be okay tonight?”</p><p>William looks at the disassembled tablet before staring hard at the wall.</p><p>“I’ll manage.”</p><p><em>‘I hope.’</em> He thinks to himself.</p><p>“Take care of your mother and call me when you get back. Drive safely.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Jennie sobs at the other end of the line before disconnecting.</p><p>William sighs audibly. <em>“Looks like it’s going to be another long night.”</em></p><p>***</p><p>“We shouldn’t be here.” A shaky voice calls out.</p><p>“Relax, Todd! If I had known, you were going to be a baby about this, I would have left you at home.”</p><p>The first voice clamps up in silent compliance. The other seemingly satisfied at this, presses on deeper into the attraction. Todd casts a final nervous glance around before following his companion through the hallways. Minutes pass and Todd is about to ask his friend to reconsider their fool’s errand, surely no bet is worth all this when he nearly bumps into Dan. He’s about to ask what the hold-up is when he catches sight of <em>it. </em>Slumped against the farthest wall, is an animatronic bunny or what once passed for one anyway. Its body is in tatters, the gaping holes in its chest revealing exposed wires and the endoskeleton beneath. Todd can’t help but repress a shudder as Dan moves closer towards the animatronic.</p><p>“Dan let’s just get the proof we need and get the hell out of here. This place is giving me the creeps.” Todd whines, no longer able to keep the rising panic out of his voice.</p><p>“Fine.” Dan sneers. “Let’s just get a photo with this Chuck E. Cheese rip-off.”</p><p>Said Chuck E Cheese rip-off has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the statement.</p><p>“<em>Teenagers.”</em></p><p>Dan nonchalantly throws his phone towards Todd, who manages to snatch it mid-air, before squatting down next to the lifeless animatronic. Todd dutifully snaps a few pics, eager to get this night behind him. He scrolls through the photos, searching for a decent one when one photo, in particular, catches his eye. It seems normal at first glance, Dan posing with a thumb’s up, next to the broken down animatronic, <em>wait, </em>was it winking at him?  Fearful to break the illusion, Todd slowly lowers the camera, only to find the animatronic staring back at him, both eyes open.</p><p>Todd lowers his voice to a whisper. “Dan, I think something’s wrong.”</p><p>As if on cue, the broken-down animatronic starts to violently twitch, startling both teenagers. They take another hesitant step backward as the animatronic slowly rises from the floor, its eyes gleaming with a newfound intensity.</p><p>“You know, I don’t take kindly to uninvited guests.”</p><p>Todd drops the phone in shock, the screen cracking as the device hits the floor while Dan looks startled for a moment, but he quickly recovers his wits.</p><p>“Let’s go, please.” Todd whimpers, tears starting to form as he shuffles back towards the doorway.</p><p>“Relax, it’s just some guy who works here, playing dress-up.” Dan scoffs.</p><p>William raises himself to his full height, his body practically shivering in anticipation of what’s to come.</p><p>A smirk plays on his features as he speaks. “You’re partially right. I used to work here.” His hands snake towards the upper and lower sides of its jaw as he slowly pries them open until the decaying skull underneath is revealed.</p><p>“Until I died on the job, that is.”</p><p>Both boys scramble to keep their footing as they dart out of the storage room. William meanwhile relishes the moment. He takes his time, stalking them through the dimly lit hallways as he listens to the teenager's frantic breathing. It doesn’t take long for him to catch up with the pair as they are arguing amongst themselves in front of the backdoor.</p><p>“It won’t open.” Todd cries. Dan roughly pushes him aside, but the door is firmly shut. Todd watches on in horror as the mangled animatronic appears in the hallway.</p><p>“Quick, it’s coming!”</p><p>William’s close enough now to see the unbridled fear in their eyes as they frantically try to escape. Idly trailing one hand over the wall, he makes his approach. Both boys cover their ears as the sound of scraping fingernails fills the air. Dan casts one glance at the approaching animatronic before making up his mind. He throws his full weight against the door, slamming it open with such force that it’s hanging out of its hinges. Todd, not requiring any more encouragement, runs out the door, Dan close on his heels. William watches them go, his eyes darting to the broken door.</p><p>
  <em>“How am I going to explain this to Jennie?” </em>
</p><p>It’s almost 2 AM when he finds his way back to the security office, reluctantly he picks up the phone to call Jennie. Luckily, she picks up after the second ring, though he can hear her suppressing a stifled yawn.</p><p>“William? Is everything alright?” she asks surprised.</p><p>He gives her a quick rundown of tonight’s events, to which she goes eerily silent.</p><p>“Did you hurt them in any way?”</p><p>He wants to scoff at the mere thought but then again, he can’t blame her for asking, given his track record.</p><p>“Tonight, will probably haunt them in the next weeks to come but they left unharmed. I’m more concerned about what their nightly escapade could mean for us.”</p><p>“I’m on my way right now.”</p><p>***</p><p>Jennie drives all night long, only stopping once for fuel. She arrives just before noon at the attraction, but it seems last night’s events had already caught up to them. The police car parked out front stands out like a sore thumb, an indication of what she might expect inside. She isn’t surprised when she finds her boss, Zach, hunched over the desk, staring at the cameras. A gruff, middle-aged policeman is taking pictures of the destroyed vending machine, its glass caved in. Jennie politely knocks on the doorframe, announcing her presence to the other two men.</p><p>Zach looks up, surprised to see Jennie standing there. “I hadn’t expected to see you here. Is everything alright with your mother? I know you took last night off to see her.”</p><p> She nods, Zach had always been surprisingly sympathetic when it came to her mother’s illness.</p><p>“She’s stable for the time being, thanks for asking. I was on my way home from the nursing home when I saw the police car parked out front. Did something happen last night while I was gone?” Jennie asks, feigning ignorance.</p><p>Zach’s face turns grim.  “It seems some kids were trespassing last night and ran into our <em>attraction.”</em></p><p>The officer takes one last picture of the destroyed vending machine before turning to Zach. “Those kids might have been trespassing, mister Fisher but something scared them right out of their minds. I wouldn’t mind seeing this animatronic.”</p><p>Zach motions to Jennie. “Lead the way if you please.”</p><p>Jennie dutifully escorts them to the storage room where she hopes that William is playing the part that they discussed over the phone. Meanwhile, Zach can’t help but suppress a disgusted noise when he looks at the ramblings on the wall.</p><p>“First the vending machine, now this. Those ruffians sure have been busy.”</p><p>He looks at the slumped animatronic in the corner. “It’s a miracle they haven’t wrecked our star attraction.”</p><p>Jennie casts a glance at the police officer who is scribbling something down in a small notebook. He looks thoughtfully at William while chewing on the end of his pen.</p><p>“The kids said something about a corpse stuffed inside the suit, care to elaborate on that, mister Fischer?”</p><p>Zach waves a hand dismissively. “It’s a prop, something to scare the younger audiences with. Perhaps in hindsight, it works a little too well. Here let me show you.”</p><p>He moves over to William, bending down as he forcibly opens the suit’s jaws, revealing the skull beneath. The officer inches closer, examining the corpse. “Looks like the real deal to me. Where did you say you got it from?”</p><p>“I bought it from a private auction a couple of months ago, along with some of the other props. The auctioneer assured me that all the items were one-hundred percent authentic and everything came from the original pizzeria.”</p><p>“I’d like to see the paperwork behind this place if you don’t mind, in the meantime do you want to file a report against those two boys, mister Fisher?”</p><p>Zach’s practically fuming at this point. “Damn right I do, I might have considered turning a blind eye, but they thoroughly trashed the place, we’re supposed to open in two weeks, and they could have drastically set us back.”</p><p>The officer nods sympathetically. “Yeah, I know their kind, always up to no good, seems they start younger and younger.’ I’m going to need you to come down to the precinct for an official report, mister Fisher.”</p><p>The officer turns towards Jennie. “And you too, ma’am.”</p><p>She’s about to follow the two men outside when she looks back to see William closing his jaw while staring menacingly at her boss’s back. She gives him a quick thumbs-up before going outside.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Wound Time Can't Erase</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jennie gets a late night call during movie night with some bad news.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do we have to watch this inane movie?” William drawls, bored, as he hangs upside down over the office desk.</p><p>Jennie, drawing from the well of infinite patience that she built up over the years as an ER nurse, raises a finger. “First off, how dare you call <em>The Princess Bride</em> inane? It’s a cult classic, I’ll have you know.”</p><p>William rolls his eyes at the statement, but Jennie is already busy stating her second argument.</p><p>“Besides it’s my turn to pick a movie tonight, we watched <em>The Shining</em> last night, as you requested.”</p><p>She settles down in the office chair, waiting for William to right himself and join her, albeit reluctantly.</p><p>She smiles at him brightly. “I promise you won’t regret it.” </p><p>“Just play the vile thing before I change my mind.”</p><p>They’ve just reached the famous scene where Inigo Montoya finally confronts his father’s killer when Jennie’s phone goes off.</p><p>“Sorry, about that, I’ll be right back.” William pauses the movie as Jennie takes the call in the nearby hallway. He can’t hear the conversation but the look on her face when she returns speaks volumes. Tears streaking her face, she turns to William, her voice barely a whisper but he doesn’t need to hear the words to understand what had happened.</p><p>“My mom passed away an hour ago.”</p><p>The suit’s ear droops in response. “My condolences.”</p><p>William’s breath hitches in his throat when he feels a sudden weight on his chest. Looking down in confusion, he notices Jennie’s head resting against his chest.</p><p>
  <em>The sight reminds him of Henry, who always had sudden bouts of affection. Henry, who always insisted on wearing those ugly flannel shirts no matter what. Henry, who always smelled like machine oil and metal.</em>
</p><p>The memory fades as he feels Jennie’s arms wrapping around him, hugging him tightly. Unsure of how to respond, William awkwardly pats her back. And just like that, the moment passes as Jennie wipes away the tears with the back of a hand. </p><p>She smiles apologetically. “Sorry, about that.”</p><p>William shrugs in an effort to hide his uneasiness. “It’s fine.”</p><p>Jennie picks up her bag. “I should be going, they wanted me to come over as soon as possible.”</p><p>William offers to escort her to the entrance, to which Jennie agrees.  They walk on in silence through the empty halls, both contemplating the recent events that had unfolded in their own way.</p><p>They’re awkwardly standing in the doorway until William breaks the tension.</p><p>“You should probably get going, it’s a long drive.”</p><p>She nods. “I’ll be gone for a couple of days; will you be alright in the meantime?” </p><p>“I’ll be fine, just go.”</p><p>“Thank you, I’ll try to call when I can.”</p><p>And with that, William’s alone once again. He decides that watching the remainder of <em>The Princess Bride </em>would be his little secret.</p><p>***</p><p>One of the things Jennie remembered most from her childhood was her mother’s constant persistence in comparing her actions with a dead brother whom she had never known. Like an entomologist, her mother held her memories of Jeremy in a light with which Jennie never could compete. She could count the number of times where she had seen her mother truly happy on one hand. There was the day she graduated from med school, her mother practically beaming with pride. And then there was the wedding, how could she forget? It was the only thing her mother could talk about at the time, fussing over the tiniest details as she wanted to make sure the wedding was up to her standards. Jennie never complained, it had been refreshing to see her mother genuinely committed to something. That had been four, no five years ago. <em>God, </em>so much had happened since then, her mother’s sudden illness, the divorce that kept dragging on because of Marcus’s stubbornness, the growing stack of hospital bills that forced her to take on a second job.</p><p>“I’m sorry I wasn’t here in the end for you when you needed me the most, mom. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the daughter you always wanted me to be. It seems all I’m good for lately is disappointing the people around me.” Breaking down next to her mother’s deathbed, she buries her head in her hands.</p><p>***</p><p>
  <em>“It’s such a tragedy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know, I heard she and her daughter didn’t get along these last few years.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wonder what that was all about? I heard there was something with an ex-husband, but I don’t know the details.”</em>
</p><p>The usual gossip between family members who only see each other during special occasions washed over Jennie. Long lost relatives who she had never heard of seemed to crawl out of the woodworks to offer their condolences and inquire about her wellbeing. Needing a break, Jennie sneaks out the backdoor of her old parental home. She’s quietly sitting on the deck when the creaking of the porch door announces that her moment’s respite is about to be rudely interrupted.</p><p>“Thought I might find you here. You know your aunt Roslyn has been looking all over the place for you.” Jennie looks up to see her uncle Robert standing next to her, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.</p><p>Jennie scoffs. “She probably wants to know if she can get her grubby hands-on mom’s precious silverware.”</p><p>Robert doesn’t respond immediately, instead, he sits down next to her, while fumbling around in his breast pocket until he finds a small silver container. He pulls out a cigarette before offering the case to Jennie, who grudgingly accepts. They sit in silence for a while, savoring their cigarettes while listening to the gossip coming from inside the house.</p><p>A dry chuckle from her uncle, has Jennie looking up from her cigarette. She raises an eyebrow questioningly, to which he waves a hand apologetically.</p><p>“Sorry, I was just thinking back on that time you thought trees had feelings and you insisted that your mom knit the willow tree in the backyard a matching scarf so it wouldn’t be jealous. You were such a headstrong child, even back then.”</p><p>“Not as headstrong as Jeremy, or so I was informed,” Jennie mumbles under her breath.</p><p>He looks over to her, the amused glint in his eye has been replaced with something far more serious.</p><p>“I know you and your mom had your differences when you were growing up, but she loved you, you know.”</p><p>Jennie takes another drag of her cigarette, savoring the bitter taste of the nicotine.</p><p>“Mom always had a funny way of showing it then. All I remember from growing up is hearing about Jeremy this, Jeremy that. I always felt like a second-rate child growing up, never able to measure myself against her memory of Jeremy.”</p><p>“She loved you both equally, but you have to understand the state of mind she was in after the incident. Your mom was in a dark place after it happened, full of self-blame and grief, something from which she never fully recovered.”</p><p>Jennie nods grimly, she had seen enough cases of survivor guilt to know what her uncle was talking about. Laying a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, Robert tries to comfort his niece. “We’re here for you if you need us, remember that.”</p><p>Jennie nods, genuinely smiling for the first time since her mother’s death. “Thanks, Uncle.”</p><p>Standing up, her uncle shakes of some non-existent dust from his trousers.  “I should head back inside’, he gives her a conspiratorial wink, if your aunt comes around, I wasn’t here.”</p><p>Jennie takes another drag from her cigarette, quietly pondering over her uncle’s words.</p><p>***</p><p>The steady beeping of various machines breaks the ominous silence that hangs over the room like a funeral shroud. A single hospital bed dominates the center of the room where a small figure lies, wasting away, oblivious to the other presence in the room.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” says the figure next to the bed, briefly lifting the mask he’s wearing to wipe away the tears that are forming.  “It was supposed to be just a prank, I …” the figure stutters, words caught in his throat as the bedroom door opens, revealing the trembling form of his father. He wishes to speak up, to cry out his innocence but a single ice-cold glare is enough to silence him. Head hanging low, he quietly leaves the bedroom.</p><p>The man, still wearing his purple work uniform, moves over to the bed, settling down next to the still form of his youngest child. The small yellow toy bear sitting on the dresser catches his eye, how much tragedy had those black beady eyes seen? Enough to last a lifetime, he assumed.</p><p>
  <em>“I will put you back together.” the man whispers.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Beep. Beep. </strong>
</p><p>William startles awake, disorientated, and dazed. Shaking off the last lingering remnants of his nightmare, he stands up, grumbling to himself as he walks over to the desk where the tablet is shaking and beeping.</p><p>A glance shows that Jennie’s requesting a video call, a couple of failed swipes later, they’re facetiming. Jennie looks practically exhausted judging from the dark circles under her eyes. She smiles apologetically. “Sorry about calling so late but I can’t sleep. I hope I didn’t disturb you?”</p><p>He thinks back on the dream. “On the contrary. How are you holding up?”</p><p>“Okay, given the circumstances. I made up an excuse about there being a workplace accident just so I could leave the wake early, my aunt Roslyn was driving me up the wall.” She smiles halfheartedly, “Family am I right?”  </p><p>She averts her gaze for a second before continuing. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask for some time now.”</p><p>There’s a small pause before she continues, her eyes not quite meeting William’s as she poses her question.</p><p>“I’m sorry if this is too personal but do you think there’s a reason why you’re still here? Do you have any unfinished business?”</p><p>A shiver running down his spine, William grasps the edge of the desk, the metal denting beneath his fingertips. He can hear Jennie’s voice faintly calling out to him, but it’s drowned out by the cries of children.</p><p>“<em>Wil iam</em>?”</p><p>“Are you alright?” William looks up, half expecting to see the ghosts of his past victims staring back at him but to his relief, it’s just Jennie giving him concerned looks.</p><p>“I’m fine, just a glitch in the system.” He lies through clenched teeth.</p><p>“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that I feel as if I’m going paranoid here, jumping at shadows each time the floorboards so much as creak, half expecting my mom to stand in the hallway, silently judging me.”</p><p> William straightens, the initial shock dissipating. “I don’t think you have to worry about your mom coming back to haunt you. The “circumstances” of my death were unique, to say the least. I believe that my spirit is bound to this suit and it, in turn, is bound to this place, a false tribute to a memory that would better be forgotten.” He shakes his head somberly.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>Confused at Jennie’s tone, he looks up, to see her staring at him with a determined look on her face.</p><p>“I made a promise to you and I intend to uphold that, so don’t lose faith.”</p><p>She smiles, encouragingly. “We’ll get through this together.”</p><p>***</p><p>Jennie spends the remaining time of her bereavement to take care of some of the smaller matters at hand, like combing through her mom’s papers and packing up some small keepsakes. She’s cleaning up the attic, reminiscing about her childhood as she sits cross-legged on the floor, one of her mother’s old scrapbooks in her lap. There are tons of pictures of her through various stages of her childhood, each neatly described with her mother’s firm handwriting. Feeling tears starting to well up, she gently closes the album and lays it down beside her, not wanting to stain it. She slowly stands up, brushing the dust off her pants, when something catches her eye.</p><p>There’s a small, unmarked photo album in the bottom of the storage box that she hadn’t noticed before. Intrigued, she picks up the book, its spine is worn with and the pages crackling beneath her fingers as she flips through it.  It’s a collection of newspaper clippings at first sight but the headlines reveal macabre contents.</p><p>
  <em>Kids vanish at local pizzeria – bodies not found.</em>
</p><p>There are dozens more of them, from various newspapers and years but all of them having one common factor.</p><p>
  <em>Freddy Fazbear’s. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The End Of Understanding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What is the connection between Fazbear's and Jennie?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>William’s taken aback when Jennie storms into the office that night. She gives him a curt greeting before throwing a stack of papers on the office desk and starts to rifle through them. Intrigued, he inches closer until he’s leaning over her shoulder, Jennie absorbed in her work, doesn’t seem to notice. A particular piece of paper manages to catch his eye and he snags it away under loud protest from Jennie. A feeling of guilt washes over William as he reads the article’s headline again.</p><p>
  <em>Beloved creator of Fazbear’s found dead.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>“Henry.”</strong>
</p><p>He reads on, the feeling of guilt growing ever stronger with each passing sentence.</p><p>
  <em>Henry Emily, creator of the controversial Fazbear Entertainment group was found dead inside his home. Fazbear’s, Emily’s chain of pizzeria’s with animatronic animals had suffered a great deal of backlash over the last few years as incidents and lawsuits kept on piling up. Police are currently investigating the scene, though local law enforcement has not ruled out the possibility of suicide.</em>
</p><p>“Suicide.”</p><p>The word resonates through his head. He had spent the last 30 years wondering what happened with Henry after his disappearance. Had his old friend ever confirmed his suspicions? Had it been Henry who gave the order to seal the storage room? Never once had he considered that Henry had taken his own life, consumed by his own grief and the accusations of others.</p><p>“Did you know him?”</p><p>He crumples the paper to a ball in his fist. “A lifetime ago.”</p><p>Jennie’s about to ask him another question when William interrupts her.</p><p>“What are you doing with these?” he gestures at the scattered newspaper clippings.</p><p>“I found them in my mom’s house when I was cleaning out some of her stuff.’”</p><p>William picks up one of the pieces of paper, the yellowed pages crumbling under his touch. “Why would she have these?”</p><p>“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. But get this?” She fishes through the stack of papers until she finds the one, she’s looking for. “There’s one common factor that I found amongst these papers, <em>Fazbear’s.</em>”</p><p>She points at the headline of the article. “<em>Kids vanish at local pizzeria – bodies not found”. </em></p><p>“This place, Fazbear’s I mean, I never realized the history behind it. What happened?” she looks to William.</p><p>He carefully mulls over his next words, he’s on thin ice now. “There isn’t much left to tell, I was a simple nightguard back in the day and even Fazbear employees were kept in the dark about the events back then. Kept them from going to the press.”</p><p>William shrugs, noticing the looks Jennie is giving him. “Times were different back then.”</p><p>“Apparently.”</p><p> Jennie rifles through the papers again, trying to find an answer while William looks on, apparently indifferent. In reality, he fears what Jennie might uncover about him with her investigation into Fazbear’s dark history. Nothing is connecting him to the missing children, he made sure of that, but there are other secrets that he doesn’t want to come to light, <em>not yet.</em> They spent the next couple of hours going through the stack of papers and journals Jennie mother had collected, Jennie looking for any scrap of information that could shed some light on her mother’s affairs while William tries his best to look inconspicuously as he searches for any information that might put him at risk.</p><p>“Would you mind if I ordered something to eat?” Jennie asks out of the blue.</p><p>William looks up from an article criticizing the poor hygienic standards at Fazbear’s. He gives a halfhearted shrug, ‘not at all’, before returning to the article. Jennie, glad that he won’t mind, pulls up one of the various food apps on her phone before deciding on pizza for take-out. The conversation lapses into silence until Jennie clears her throat, the noise sounding awfully loud in the tranquil atmosphere.</p><p>“Can I ask you something?” A hint of uncertainty flashes over William’s features but it’s instantly replaced by a more expressionless look. He nods, signaling for her to continue.</p><p>“What was it like, working at Fazbear’s back then? The newspapers, they sketch it like some cheap off-brand pizzeria place but what was it like?”</p><p>“Well, he says, taking a seat at the desk, it might sound biased coming from someone who spent so much time there, but we tried our best to make Fazbear’s a family restaurant.”</p><p>“We?” Jennie asks surprised. I thought you were a nightguard.</p><p>William noticing his little slip-up, quickly rectifies his mistake. “I was a nightguard amongst other things, but the owner and I got along pretty well, our kids being best friends and all that, and we often discussed the restaurant and it’s future after my nightshifts.”</p><p>“Is he the man from that article? The one about the owner of Fazbear’s being found dead in his house?”</p><p>William looks away, hurt. “Henry Emily, a good man and one I was proud to call my friend.”</p><p>“I’m sorry’, Jennie says, ‘I shouldn’t have asked.”</p><p>William shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, though I have to admit that”, he gestures at the newspapers on the desk, “these bring back a lot of memories, not all of them pleasant.”</p><p>Jennie stands up, organizing the stack of papers, “I’m sorry, I just wanted to ask for your opinion on these, since you were an employee back then, but I failed to take your personal history into consideration.”</p><p>She looks up from the papers, “I feel like such a shitty friend right now.”</p><p>“You’re not. You just had a couple of rough days with the funeral and everything and now you find out that your mother’s been keeping secrets from you. “You’re just confused right now, which is understandable, given the circumstances.” Why don’t we take a quick break from all this’, he gestures at the papers, ‘and wait for that pizza to arrive?”</p><p>***</p><p>The office is completely silent, except for the faint snoring noises coming from the slumped figure leaning over the desk.</p><p>An animatronic bunny that has seen better days is sitting cross-legged on the floor, seemingly absorbed in a crumpled piece of paper. The ears of the bunny suddenly jolt upright, as the sound of footsteps reaches its sensitive hearing. The animatronic springs into readiness with an elegance one wouldn’t associate with a hulking metallic mass, carefully positioning itself next to the entrance of the office. It casts a quick glance at the sleeping figure at the desk before bracing itself against the wall as the intruder draws nearer. The interloper is barely inside the office when he feels himself lifted off his feet and thrown against the nearest wall with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. The pizza box he had been carrying clatters to the floor, forgotten.</p><p>A gruff voice whispers into his ear, “you’ve got some nerve coming back here, you little tyke.”</p><p>The interloper, a teenager by all accounts, blinks quickly as his mind has trouble catching up with what his eyes are registering, that an oversized animatronic bunny is holding him in a death grip. It also seems to know him somehow.</p><p>He manages to sputter out the words “pizza delivery guy” between shaky breaths.</p><p>The demeanor of his assailant changes immediately, he can feel the steel grip on his shoulders relaxing as the animatronic bunny pats some nonexistent dirt off his uniform.</p><p>“Sorry about that, we’ve had some break-ins here recently”, the bunny explains in a gruff voice.</p><p>The woman at the desk wakes up at this, casting a befuddled look towards the strange pair.</p><p>“Isss the pizza here?” She asks, her speech slurred.</p><p>The animatronic bunny nods before gesturing to her cheek. “You’ve got something there.”</p><p>The woman absentmindedly rubs over her cheek.</p><p>“The other one,” says the animatronic bunny in a deadpan voice.</p><p>Jennie wipes over her cheek with a sweater sleeve, successfully removing the piece of paper.</p><p>“How much do I owe you for the pizza?” She asks the uncomfortable looking teenager who seems to be sweating an awful lot. Teenage hormones will do that to you.</p><p>“Twenty dollars.”</p><p>“Ma’am.” He adds thoughtfully.</p><p>Jennie digs through her wallet until she finds a random bill, she gives it to the delivery boy with a knowing wink.</p><p>“Keep the change.”</p><p>The teenager looks at the ten-dollar bill the woman offered him, he’s about to voice his concern but a glance at the menacing figure standing in the corner is enough to clamp him up.</p><p> “I don’t get paid enough to deal with this bullshit.” He whispers under his breath.</p><p>He gives an exaggerated smile and speaks up in a louder voice, ‘‘thank you, ma’am. Have a nice evening.”</p><p>“Let me walk you out.” The animatronic bunny offers.</p><p>The teenager’s about to protest, he can find the exit on his own, thank you very much but the cold steel grip on his shoulder implies it wasn’t an offer. He helplessly lets himself be guided through the empty hallways while his escort calmly explains what would happen to him if he mentioned anything about tonight’s events to anyone. The teenager nods vigorously, eager to leave.</p><p>“Good, you’re free to leave. I’ll just be taking this.” He grabs the baseball cap featuring the pizzeria’s logo from the boy’s head.</p><p>William gives the teenager a smile that’s all teeth.</p><p>“Consider it a keepsake of tonight’s events, now of you go.” He pushes the boy out of the door, chuckling as the teenager makes a run for his scooter. Jennie suppresses a yawn as William walks back into the office, the cap twirling around an index finger.</p><p>“Sorry about falling asleep like that, I guess I was more tired than I thought. What happened before I woke up?”</p><p>“Nothing of importance, I told the kid we were busy rehearsing for the grand opening before you fell asleep.”</p><p>“And he believed that?” Jennie asks.</p><p>He chuckles. “I can be pretty convincing when I have to be.”</p><p> Jennie shrugs as she takes a bite of pizza. “This pizza is pretty good.”</p><p>William settles on the desk, casting a curious glance.</p><p>“Is that anchovies? On a pizza?” He asks appalled.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s pretty decent”, Jennie mumbles obliviously, chewing on a slice of pizza.</p><p>William sneers. “It’s disgusting, that’s what it is.”</p><p>“Your loss.”</p><p>***</p><p>They spend the remainder of the night going through the rest of her mother’s documents, William searching for any evidence that might incriminate him in some way, while Jennie is busy trying to make sense of it all by organizing the papers on publication date in order for them to get some sort of timeline. It’s nearing 5 AM when William suggests they let it rest for tonight, but Jennie won’t hear it.</p><p>“We’re close to cracking this thing wide open, I just know it.” She argues, turning back to the stack of papers on the desk. William shakes his head, thinking it’s nothing more than a wild goose chase, which might end badly for both involved parties. In reality, Jennie knows the trail has gone cold, but she doesn’t want to admit it to William. Besides, she feels like she owes it to her mother, a final way to show her respect. She rubs over her temples, the last few days had been exhausting, with her mother’s funeral and the accompanying drama, she silently promises herself that if this last strategy doesn’t come with up results, they’ll call it quits for today. It just doesn’t make any sense, what was the connection between her mother, who saw public playgrounds as a potential safety hazard, and Fazbear’s? Her mother had always been a cosseting parent, but Jennie had come to expect that of her. She couldn’t blame her mother for being overprotective, especially after the car accident that resulted in Jeremy’s death.</p><p>
  <em>“Jeremy.”</em>
</p><p>His name had come up a lot in the final months leading up to her death, her mother even going as far as believing that she was her dead brother. Come to think of it, her mother had made an odd remark during one of her last visits.</p><p>
  <em>“Jeremy died on his birthday.”</em>
</p><p>What had she meant with that? If she remembered correctly the accident had happened in December when her mother had slipped on a piece of ice and lost control over the wheel.  Was it just the remnants of a bad memory that a dying woman remembered or was it a sudden moment of clarity? Jennie didn’t know, but either way, I couldn’t hurt to give it a try. She rifles through the papers, looking for any articles that might have published near or on the day of Jeremy’s birthday, the 26<sup>th</sup> of July.  There’s one article that was published on that date, a memorial piece.  The accompanying photo shows a soberly dressed woman in her mid-thirties, carrying a wide-eyed toddler on her arm. The pair is posing in front of a decrepit looking building that had seen better years. The only hint towards its original purpose is the discolored banner hanging above the entrance. The text on it is faded but an observant viewer can still make out the franchise’s iconic catchphrase:  <em>Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-up alike, where fantasy and fun come to life.</em></p><p>Any doubt Jennie had about the woman’s identity is crushed when she reads the comment below the photo.</p><p>
  <em>Olivia Hollis, mother of Jeremy Mercer, posing before the building where her son went missing ten years ago.</em>
</p><p>She reads the rest of the article, an interview with her late mother, with growing anguish.</p><p>She can’t hold back tears when she reads how her mother described that fateful day, what she felt when she discovered that her son was missing and how she still blames herself for letting him out of her sight. The tears turn into sobbing when she reads how her mother expresses that she would have closure knowing that Jeremy and the other children were at peace, so she could close this chapter of her life and focus on her daughter, Jennifer, the wide-eyed toddler on the photo. William, sensing her emotional distress draws closer, as he looks over her shoulder, he realizes what the cause of her distress was.  An imaginary chill runs through his spine, as realization dawns on him. In a bitter twist of irony or perhaps karma catching up to him, he finds that the person he had been relying on all this time, is related to one of his former victims. He can’t imagine what she might do if she ever found out the truth, but he will do whatever it takes to make sure that she never does.  For now, he will play the part of the sympathetic shoulder to cry on, while steering her from the path that would lead her straight to him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. No One Will Ever Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jennie's determined to find out the truth behind Fazbear's, even if it means going to the original Fazbear's.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Last night’s revelations had given William much pause for thought. He had been genuinely surprised when Jennie showed him the newspaper clippings, but at first, he had thought nothing of it but then Jennie uncovered that final piece of the puzzle, an interview with her late mother regarding the tenth anniversary of her brother’s disappearance, revealing that their lives were more intertwined than he had originally thought. Another cruel jest on his expense, to find out that the one he had come to rely on, the one he was counting on to pave the way to his freedom, was none other than the brother of one of his former victims. It didn’t matter, none of that mattered now. He had come too far, sacrificed too much to let this revelation deter him from his goal. He would have to be extra mindful when dealing with her, at least until she had served her purpose. William’s abruptly shaken out of his thoughts by the ringing of the office desk phone. Strange, he hadn’t expected a call from Jennie, perhaps she wanted to discuss last night’s finding with him or maybe something else troubled her? A glance at the display screen reveals it’s a number unfamiliar to him, was Jennie calling from a different number? He decides not to take any risks and ignores the call.  The ringing stops after a minute or so, but the answering machine lights up, indicating that the caller left a voice message.</p><p>
  <em>“No harm in listening to it, after all, it could have been Jennie, leaving him a message.”</em>
</p><p>He settles in the desk chair, leaning back as he plays back the recording.</p><p>An unknown man’s voice fills the office. “Hey Jen, I received an obituary of your mom at our old address and I wanted to check up on you. I haven’t heard from you in a while and I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”</p><p>The man sighs deeply.</p><p>“Look, I know that after everything that happened, I’m probably the last person in the world you would want to talk to right now, but I wanted to offer my sincerest condolences.</p><p>Truth is, I’ve been worried about you. So, I was thinking we could maybe meet up sometime for old times’ sake. I want to talk things out between us., I want to be the husband you deserve.”</p><p>The man grows silent for a moment, seemingly listening to some buzz going on in the background.</p><p>“I should be going now but please call me back as soon as you hear this.”</p><p>William rhythmically drums his fingers on the office desk as he contemplates this new development.</p><p>
  <em>“Her husband? Why hadn’t she ever mentioned him before? Then again, I never asked. Still, judging from what I just heard, it does sound like they have some marriage tribulations. “</em>
</p><p>In the end, he deletes the recording, arguing that it’s in his best self-interest to ensure that Jennie remains focused on freeing him and not traipsing around like some lovestruck character from a penny dreadful. Besides, he thinks, with the recent events that have unfolded, he doubts that Jennie needs any more drama in her life, present company excluded.</p><p>
  <em>Ignorance is bliss as they say.</em>
</p><p>***</p><p>“You want to do what?” William raises his voice, his damaged ear twitching violently.</p><p>Jennie holds her ground, unshaken by his sudden outburst. “I want to visit the place where it all happened, I was hoping it would help me find closure.”</p><p>William crosses his arms. “Absolutely not. I can’t allow you to put yourself into harm’s way like that.</p><p>
  <em>And risk exposing everything I’ve done in these past thirty years come to light”</em>
</p><p>Jennie settles on the desk. “Where’s the danger? The only thing I have to worry about is the fact that I’m committing a felony by breaking and entering in a condemned building.”</p><p>William shakes his head, surprised by how lightly she handles the prospect of committing a crime. Some of his stoicism must have rubbed off on her, though he isn’t sure if that’s a good thing.</p><p>“There’s a good chance there are still of a couple of animatronics roaming around.”</p><p>Jennie tilts her head in question. “So? What makes them so dangerous?”</p><p>William thinks for a moment, contemplating how much he can tell her without giving away too much information.</p><p>“Back in the day, the animatronics were equipped with unique facial recognition software that allowed them to tap into a criminal database so they could recognize any potential threats to children. Something went wrong, however, and they started seeing any adult as a potential liability. It all started during the night shifts, the animatronics behavior became erratic, they were hovering near the security office and generally harassing the night guard.”</p><p>Jennie raises an eyebrow. “Sounds familiar.”</p><p>“Very funny.” William deadpans before continuing with the rest of his story.</p><p>“Then the bite of 87’ happened, one of the animatronics bit the head of a dayshift guard, tearing out their frontal lobe. Suffice to say, Fazbear’s was driven to a state of financial ruin between that and the missing children’s incident.”</p><p>Jennie grows silent for a moment. Would she have taken the job here, knowing all that she knows now? Probably not but at least now she had a chance to uncover the truth, whatever that entails.</p><p>She takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. “I’m still going.”</p><p>William’s ear starts to twitch again. “Why would you willingly risk your life for something that happened a lifetime ago? You don’t have to do your mother’s bidding anymore, prostrating yourself before her, begging for her attention.”</p><p>He realizes he might have been too harsh when he sees tears well up in Jennie’s eyes.  Jennie nods, it was true that she had spent most of her life trying to earn her mother’s adoration any way she could. Her mother had always looked over her shoulder, silently judging her every action. Her voice breaks but she presses on, determined to finally address the issue at hand.</p><p>“Don’t you think I don’t know that? I lived my entire life in the shadow of a brother I never knew. Knowing that no matter what I did, I would never live up to the image my mother had created of him.”</p><p>She looks at William, wiping away the tears with a sleeve.</p><p>“That’s why I’m not doing this for her. I’m not doing it out of some misguided sense of fulfillment to honor her memory.  I’m doing this for myself, so I can lay to rest these feelings and move forward to a future where I’m not tied down by a false sense of obligation.”</p><p>For the first time since he has known her, William feels something akin to respect towards her.</p><p>
  <em>She’ll go anyway, with or without my endorsement. By supporting her in her folly I might be able to do some damage control and keep her out of harm’s way, at least until she’s served her purpose.</em>
</p><p>He nods.</p><p>“Family bonds are a noose that gradually ties itself around your neck, leaving just enough leeway to allow you to breath but tight enough so that you’re constantly aware of its presence. “</p><p>Jennie looks like she wants to speak up, but William interrupts her.</p><p>“It’s nothing, forget I said anything. I was speaking from a place of bitterness and resentment. We should focus on your plan.”</p><p>The morbid comment all but forgotten, Jennie pipes up. “So, does that mean you’ll help me?”</p><p>“I’m still skeptic about your plan, but knowing your motivations behind it, I want to assist in any way I can.”</p><p>He moves towards the desk, rummaging through one of the drawers until he pulls out a piece of paper and a pen.</p><p>“I’ll draw you a map of the pizzeria’s layout to the best of my abilities.”</p><p>Jennie shakes her head. “That might not be necessary but first, what can you tell me about the animatronics that might be present?”</p><p>William starts pacing up and down the length of the small office.</p><p>“My knowledge of the subject only extends to the ones who were present during my time as a nightguard. I’ll tell you everything I remember from that time.”</p><p>Jennie leans forward, intrigued.</p><p>“There were five of them, you could refer to them as the main cast of Fazbear’s so to speak.”</p><p>He raises a digit. “The first one is Freddy, he’s the mascot of the franchise.  He looks like a light brown bear wearing a black bow tie and top hat. You should look out for him, he’s a nasty piece of work.”</p><p>William raises another finger. “The second one is Chica, a bright yellow animatronic chicken. She frequently appeared in the kitchen, banging pots and pans together.”</p><p>Bonnie is a purple-colored rabbit and the one upon which this suit is based. Back in the day, he liked to roam around, one time I even found him standing in the supply closet, staring into nothingness.’</p><p>A fourth digit is raised. “You can find Foxy in Pirate Cove, a separate attraction from the rest of the pizzeria. Foxy is beyond a doubt the most dangerous one of the animatronics, rumor was that he was the one responsible for the bite of 87’.”</p><p>Jennie shudders at the mention of the infamous incident, she couldn’t fathom what that poor guard must have gone through. She turns her thoughts to the present matter, if she didn’t pay attention, she might wind up in a similar situation.</p><p>“You mentioned a fifth animatronic?”</p><p>“The puppet.” William sneers, the name leaving a bitter taste behind in his mouth.</p><p>He still remembered when Henry had first shown him the blueprints of the animatronic that would singlehandedly save Fazbear’s reputation. He had loathed the thing back then and his opinion hadn’t changed after the circumstances of Charlie’s death. He had always suspected that something had happened to the animatronic after that, but he couldn’t lay his finger on it.</p><p>“It was the first animatronic to be outfitted with the facial recognition technology and one of the measures Fazbear’s took to clean up their image.”</p><p>He stops pacing and gives Jennie a hard look. “I won’t be able to help you if there are other animatronics present.”</p><p>Jennie nods. “I know but I won’t be going in unarmed.” She ruffles through her purse until she pulls out a small black rectangular box that looks like a deformed handgun.</p><p>“I’ve been carrying it around for some time now, but I haven’t used it so far, though.” She explains. William doesn’t press her on the subject, instead, he files that tidbit of information away for later use. A glance at the clock, reveals it’s nearing 6 AM.</p><p>“You should head on home, tomorrow’s going to be a big day,” William advises.</p><p> “See you tomorrow, then. And thank you for helping me, I couldn’t do this without you.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>***</p><p>“Can you hear me?” Jennie asks, unable to keep her voice from shaking. The microphone crackles loudly as William responds. “Loud and clear but adjust the camera a couple of inches to the left, I can’t get a clear visual.”</p><p>“Is this better?”</p><p>William looks at the tablet screen which shows a dimly lit hallway, the walls adorned with torn scraps of children’s drawings. It had been Jennie’s idea to explore the location armed with a GoPro, allowing William to follow her movement from the security office while being able to give her real-time instructions.</p><p>“The security office should be coming up your left, it might be worth checking out, though I doubt they left anything of value lying around.”</p><p>The flashlight illuminates the battered remains of a metal desk, the standard office phone having been smashed to pieces a long time ago. A discarded Freddy head sits upon the desk, its empty eye sockets seem to follow her every movement.</p><p>“They must have stripped it down for parts back then.” Jennie whispers, her voice echoing eerily through the office.</p><p>“Stay focused, we’re not here for sightseeing,” William ordered.</p><p>She leaves the office, following the hallway until she enters a large open space. The light from her torch illuminates a rundown carousel, depicting the franchise’s animatronics as their animal counterparts.</p><p>A large banner adorns the back wall, the faded text barely readable.<em> "Happy Birthday."</em></p><p>Some large gift boxes, their once beautiful wrapping paper now curled and shriveled, are stacked in a corner of the room, remnants of a happier time.</p><p>
  <em>” Had Jeremy celebrated his birthday here, like so many others before him?”  </em>
</p><p>Jennie could almost imagine children running around, playing on the’ carousel. Eating lukewarm microwaved pizza, screaming at the top of their lungs, doing children’s things. She almost dismisses the child’s laughter as her imagination running wild when she hears it again, louder this time.</p><p>“William? Did you hear that?” She asks, her voice slightly trembling.</p><p>“It might be an animatronic, so be on your guard.”</p><p>She desperately shines the light around the empty room, determined to find the source of the sound when the beam rests upon a small figure. It’s humanoid in design, wearing blue pants, a red and blue vertical striped shirt, and brown shoes. In one hand it holds a yellow and red striped balloon while the other holds a sign that says "Balloons!".</p><p>“Hi there,” Jennie whispers while raising one hand in a cautionary greeting. The animatronic slightly tilts its head, giving her a curious look.</p><p>“Hello!” it replies in a singsong voice as it takes a small step towards her.</p><p>“You don’t seem so bad.” She says more to herself than the animatronic. It looks up to her, a gleam in its eyes that wasn’t there earlier. “Hello!” It calls out, louder this time.</p><p>“Keep it down please, I don’t want to attract any unwanted attention.” She attempts to shush the animatronic, who only increases in volume despite her protest.</p><p>“You need to move now! Can’t you see he’s drawing them to your location?” William shouts into her ear. Jennie curses herself for her stupidity, she had been lulled into a false sense of security by the animatronics’ design, thinking it to be no threat. Taking William’s warning as an incentive, she breaks out in a sprint, nearly running the animatronic of its proverbial socks.</p><p>“Where am I going?” Jennie calls out in the microphone.</p><p>“There’s a storage room down the hallway, you should be safe there,” William calls back.</p><p><em>“I pray you’re right or otherwise I might end up as the next victim of Fazbear’s”, </em>Jennie thinks as she runs through the hallways, desperate to find safety from the roaming animatronics.</p><p>“Take a right here!” The command comes so sudden that Jennie reacts purely on instinct as she ducks through the doorframe, scraping her shoulder in the process. She presses herself against the farthest wall, clamping her hands over her mouth, as she forces herself to restrain her ragged breathing. William does his best to put her at ease. “Don’t worry, this storage room was never recorded in the official Fazbear blueprints, the animatronics don’t know about its existence, so they can’t enter it.”</p><p>Jennie doesn’t know where William got his information from but as the sounds of clanging footsteps come closer, she just hopes his intel is correct. After what feels like an eternity of waiting, the footsteps slowly recede, and Jennie prays that the animatronics have grown bored of their game and given up their chase.</p><p>“Are you alright?” William calls out.</p><p>“I’m fine, just …”  A loud thump sounds as Jennie’s unconscious form hits the ground.</p><p>***</p><p>Jennie startles awake, the bright lights of the room temporarily blinding her.</p><p>
  <em>“Lights? There shouldn’t be any electricity to power them.”</em>
</p><p>She looks around, perplexed. Shelves stacked with spare electronic parts adorn the walls while a decommissioned animatronic suit is spread out on a workbench. She’s about to inspect the suit further when the sound of footsteps freezes her in place.</p><p>
  <em>“Had the animatronics found her? “</em>
</p><p>The footsteps increase in volume and with it come the voices. Jennie can’t make out what they’re saying but they seem to be coming towards her general direction. She ducks behind the workbench, just in time as a door opens. She hesitantly peeks out from behind the workbench, surprised to see a group of five children, four boys, and one girl, walking into the room. The children are energetically talking amongst themselves as they walk straight past Jennie’s hiding place without noticing her.  A new figure steps into the room, drawing the attention of the children and leaving Jennie speechless. A yellow bunny stands in the doorframe, its design eerily similar to that of William’s but in a much better condition. It walks towards the children, a huge grin spread on its face as it fixes the purple bowtie on its chest panel.</p><p>“Who’s ready for the big surprise?”</p><p>Any remaining doubt Jennie had regarding the suit’s wearer instantly disappear. The voice sounds younger, less bitter, and metallic but it’s unmistakably William’s. Hesitantly, she stands up from behind the workbench, eliciting no response from the others in the room. She walks up to William, who ignores her presence. She lightly taps him on the arm to grab his attention but instead of hitting solid metal, she finds her hand fazing through the appendage as if it’s nothing more than air. A slight shriek escapes her throat, what was going on here? Was this a dream or a nightmare?  Meanwhile, one of the children, the blonde pigtailed girl, steps forward, her excitement barely contained as she balances herself on the balls of her feet.</p><p>“Susie, wasn’t it?” William extends an open hand towards the girl.</p><p>Susie nods vigorously, happily accepting the open invitation.</p><p>William’s smile broadens, to the point where it seems his face might split into two.</p><p>“Congratulations, Susie. You get to be the first.”</p><p>Susie still smiles though she can’t hide the confusion in her voice as she asks: “the first what?”</p><p>William doesn’t reply, instead, he lets the knife he’s been keeping in one of the suit’s cavities slip into his other hand. The knife cleanly slides between Suzie’s ribs, deep enough to puncture her right lung. She’s still coughing up blood when William moves to his second victim, a freckled boy wearing a gray striped shirt. Jennie doesn’t think as she throws herself in front of the boy, shielding him with her body. She screams when the knife goes through her, but the pain she had anticipated stays out. She turns around, looking on in horror as the boy clutches at his ruined throat, blood streaming through his fingers. The other children are clawing at the door, desperate to get out. They scream for help, but no one comes. Realizing they are trapped with no hope to escape, they frantically hug each other, taking solace in each other’s presence. Jennie closes her eyes when she sees the menacing figure of William stalking towards the remaining children, the knife’s edge gleaming brightly in the harsh light. The cries of terror follow suit shortly after, only to swiftly be silenced. She hesitantly opens her eyes again, fearful for what she might see. The scene had shifted towards an even more gruesome tableau. She can feel bile rising from the back of her throat as she watches who she presumes is William wearing a nightguard uniform, stuff one of the children’s corpses in a discarded animatronic suit.</p><p>An unfamiliar voice fills the room.</p><p>
  <em>“Ironic isn’t it, that he suffered a similar fate?”</em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Marcus Yong had always prided himself on being resourceful, it was one of the qualities that had allowed him to rise to the position of partner in the law firm where he worked.  Another virtue of his was patience. When his wife, Jennifer had walked out on him after a serious marital conflict, he had given her time to cope with the situation, while hoping she would come to her sense and reach out to him on her own accord. The divorce papers in the mail made it evident that she didn’t share his views on rekindling their marriage. He had tried calling her, determined to get some answers but her phone number was out of service. The hospital where she worked wasn’t much help either, they refused to tell him anything. Jennifer, for all intents and purposes, seemed hellbent on cutting all ties with him. Marcus was inclined to disagree and fortunately for him, luck seemed to be on his side. He had received an obituary notice of Jennifer’s mother a week ago, which included an invitation to the reception after the funeral, implying that however sent it, didn’t know about their current tribulations. He showed up at the funeral home a half-hour later than he had hoped due to a traffic jam.  Some heads turned when he arrived, but no one disputed his right to be there. Marcus was surprised when an elderly woman, who dragged her reluctant husband alongside her, ran up to him.</p><p>“I told my husband Robert, you and that niece of mine were still together, but he didn’t believe me.”</p><p>She amicably pats Marcus on the shoulder, who winces in barely concealed disgust.</p><p>“It’s so good to see you again, I always told Robert having a lawyer in the family could come in handy.”</p><p>Marcus gives the woman his best fake smile, the one he usually reserves for his most difficult clients.</p><p>“Aunt Roslyn, how nice to see you.”  He gives her a quick peck on her cheek, her strong perfume nearly making him retch.</p><p>“You haven’t seen my darling wife, by any chance, have you?”</p><p>Roslyn shakes her head so vigorously that Marcus fears for a whiplash.</p><p>“She left fifteen minutes ago, mumbling something about a work emergency. Honestly, I don’t understand why she works herself to death like that. She should just become a housewife, it’s what I did when I was her age.”</p><p>Marcus nods, knowing that Jennifer loathed the idea of becoming a 50’s housewife. He decides to play along, hoping that dear aunt Roslyn, with her blabbermouth, will tell him all he needs to know.</p><p>“I know. I told her numerous times that she shouldn’t have to work herself to death like that.”</p><p>Aunt Roslyn, who is ecstatic that she would an audience, continues to preach about her ideas about conventional housewives.</p><p>“The way she talks about that place, she made it sound so dreadful, all dark and gloomy. Why anyone, especially a girl of her social standing, would want to work in someplace like that “Fatbear’s” escape’s me.”</p><p>She gives Marcus a playful jab in the ribs, causing the man to almost double over in pain, “maybe you could talk some sense into that wife of yours.”</p><p>Marcus nods. “Oh, I fully intend to.”</p><p>He’s already checking the internet for any possible references to this “Fatbear’s” when Aunt Roslyn pipe’s up. “Don’t be a stranger, dear.”</p><p>Marcus waves his hand in response, hoping he would never have to see that obnoxious woman ever again.</p><p>“Fatbear’s” doesn’t yield any results but the term “Fazbear’s” pops up on his feed. The most recent article detailing the impending opening of a horror attraction based on the pizzeria franchise with the same name. Why his wife decided to waste her time in something so beneath her, was beyond Marcus’s understanding but he decided to check out the place.  Perhaps he could catch up to her and talk things out, his way. He’s surprised to find Jennie’s new workplace in the shadier, more industrial place of town. He checks the address twice when he sees the rundown building, but according to his GPS, Fazbear’s Fright should be right here. Hesitant, he walks around the building before finding the service entrance. There’s an electronic key card lock, though that seems redundant considering the fact that the door was barely hanging in its hinges. Marcus steps through the door as silently as possible, the dimly lit hallway beyond seems uninviting and eerie, he isn’t deterred, on the contrary, the soft murmurs of voices coming from somewhere deeper in the building only strengthen his resolve to confront his wife. As he presses on, he can make a clear distinction between the voices, one speaking in soft, hushed tones while the other sounds curt and gruff. There’s no doubt in his mind about the owner of the first voice, but he doesn’t recognize the other person. He listens on as the unknown voice inquiries about Jennifer’s situation regarding her mother’s recent departure. Marcus unconsciously clenches his fist; he should have been the one asking her that. Instead, he’s about to find her in the arms of another man, something that his pride can’t allow. Marcus steps into the doorway of the security office, fully intent on catching his wife in the act of adultery when he finds himself frozen in place, his spiteful remarks forgotten when he gazes upon a deteriorating animatronic rabbit sitting in the office chair. It doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet as it’s fully engrossed with the tablet in front of it. His body moves on pure instinct, flattening itself against the wall, while his mind reels with questions. He can hear the office chair alarmingly creaking as the sinister figure shifts its weight.</p><p>“Everything all right there?” Jennifer asks.</p><p>Marcus holds his breath as the figure in the office replies. “Just a glitch in the system.”</p><p>Realizing he has overstayed his welcome, Marcus slinks back towards the entrance, constantly glancing over his shoulder, on the lookout for whatever that thing back there was.</p><p>***</p><p>Jennie awakes with a pounding headache; she absentmindedly rubs her forehead as she takes in the room. The barren walls, lack of lighting, and overall dampness confirm that she’s back in the storage room where she was originally hiding. She hesitantly stands up, grasping for support when her head swims with dizziness. She waits for it to pass before she takes a cautionary step when something cracks beneath her feet. She lifts her foot, revealing the barely hanging together GoPro, its camera lens cracked.</p><p>
  <em>“Guess I’m not going to get my warranty back on that one.”</em>
</p><p>A sudden chill fills the room, causing Jennie’s neck hair to stand on end. She gets the unshakable feeling that there’s someone or something in the room with her. Reluctantly she turns around, facing the thin, tall figure floating inches above the ground. Its face is pale white, black hollow eyes are sunken deep into its sockets, purple stripes stretch from the bottom of its eyes to the top of its mouth.</p><p>“The Puppet.” Jennie whispers.</p><p>The figure tilts its head curiously, seemingly surprised that she had recognized it.</p><p>“You saw everything, didn’t you?” It speaks in hushed tones, the voice unmistakably that of a child.</p><p>Jennie nods, her stomach still lurches when she thinks back on the sight of the children’s corpses.</p><p>“Then you know what he did. What he made us into.”</p><p>It still felt hard to believe that William was the one who was responsible, she had trusted him, shared her grief with him. She had considered him something of a friend and now it turned out that he had murdered a group of children. No matter how much it pained her, she had to know. She asks the question that had been on her mind ever since she saw the painful truth. “Was my brother one of them?”</p><p>The puppet nods.</p><p>“Can I see him then, please?”</p><p>The Puppet shakes its head. “The one you once called brother is here, but I doubt he would recognize you. The others are like animals but I’m very much aware.” There’s a hint of sympathy in its voice but it’s buried underneath heaps of malice.</p><p>Jennie is desperately trying to connect the dots, each answer only leaving her with more questions.</p><p>“Did William do this them? To you?”</p><p>“No, I gave them a new life, a new purpose but they don’t remember much of their old lives. Because <em>HE</em> took it away from us.” Unlike the other children, the spirit possessing the puppet, remembers everything, every little detail about their death. The bond they had shared<em>,</em> how they had looked up to <em>HIM </em>only to feel the knife slip into their back. The Puppet is shaken out of their thoughts when the woman speaks up again.</p><p>“Why? Why did you bring them back?” The question comes as a surprise, couldn’t she see that <em>HE</em> had forced their hand, forcing them to retaliate.</p><p>“I did what I thought was best for them. I was the only one they had, the only one that truly cared about them.”</p><p>“But you aren’t the only one that cared for them, they had families, parents that loved them, missed them. What you did was honorable, but this isn’t a life for them. Surely you must realize that.”</p><p><em>‘No!’ </em>The puppet wants to scream, they had cared for the children, nurtured them when the world had forgotten about their existence, leaving them alone in this cold, empty place with only each other as company.</p><p>“We’ve been here for so long, this is the only life they remember, we have nothing left but our burning hatred for that man.”</p><p>Jennie’s pretty sure that if what the puppet claims, that the other children are more akin to animals, then they probably can’t even think coherently enough to keep a grudge like that.  She doesn’t voice her opinion out loud though; the Puppet’s mood seems to become more volatile with each passing moment.</p><p>She decides to try a different approach. “Maybe it’s time to move on, let go of your grievances and leave this place.” She suggests.</p><p>“Even if I wanted to, I’m not sure we can.” They had thought about their absolution many times, but it felt wrong, besides their murderer hadn’t suffered nearly enough at their hands yet.</p><p>Jennie hesitantly takes one of the puppet’s hands into her own, the action startling the Puppet.</p><p>“I’ll help you any way I can but there’s something I have to do first.”</p><p>The Puppet gives her a puzzled look. “You are going back to <em>him</em>? He’ll kill you without a second thought.”</p><p>Jennie shudders visibly.</p><p>“I still have the upper hand; he doesn’t know that I’m onto him. It might give me a slight edge. And should it come down to it, I won’t go down without a fight.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Will The Circle Unbroken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finally having uncovered the truth, Jennie goes back to Fazbear's Fright, where danger lies in wait at every corner.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The local radio station warns of heavy snowfall in the region, advising any drivers still on the road to seek shelter for the night and wait out the worst of the storm. The announcer also reports that listeners have mentioned power outages throughout the region. Jennie’s vehicle trudges on through the mushed grey snow, the wheels occasionally slipping on a patch of ice before her mother’s trusty old Wrangler corrects its course. She’s somewhat grateful for the weather forecast, having to keep her full attention on the road prevents her from dwelling too hard on what the Puppet told her in Fazbear’s.</p><p>
  <em>“He’ll kill you without a second thought.”</em>
</p><p>Jennie shudders even though the car’s heater is turned to the fullest. The familiar shape looming in the distance fills her not with relief but a foreboding sense of dread as it rises out of the darkness like a prehistoric beast. She turns off the car engine, the steading ticking somewhat calming her fraying nerves as she rests her head against the steering wheel, waiting for her racing heartbeat to steady itself.  Minutes tick by before she finally finds the courage to step out of the car, the frigid winter air nearly blowing her away as she clutches her jacket closer. The snow loudly crunches underneath her feet as she carefully makes her way towards the back entrance, the sound muffling the second pair of footprints that fall in behind her. By the time she feels her stalker’s hot breath panting down her neck, it’s already too late. She futilely raises a fist in self-defense, blindly lashing out but her attacker deftly turns her attack against her as he catches her fist in mid-air, spinning her around and rams her into the wall with enough force to leave her light-headed.</p><p>A whiff of bourbon fills her nostrils as a sultry voice whispers into her ear. “Oh Jenn, you’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you?”</p><p>Jennie tries to protest but his other hand covers her mouth. “No need to answer, I know what you've been up to since you left.”</p><p>He chuckles darkly. “Oh boy, I knew you were kinky, but you really took it to a new dimension, didn’t you? I mean, I’m not one to judge but you left me for some guy in a rabbit costume? That’s just hurtful.”</p><p>She struggles against his grasp, desperate to escape but Marcus only twists her arm harder in response, she cries out in pain, the sound muffled against the palm of his hand.</p><p>Marcus shakes his head disapprovingly.  “Don’t be like that Jennifer. Do you think I want to do this? Do you think I take pleasure in seeing you like this?”</p><p>His grip on her arm loosens slightly as he continues. “I know you, Jenn, this isn’t like you. You were manipulated by that so-called lover of yours but don’t worry, I’ll make him pay for thinking he can lay a finger on another man’s wife.”</p><p>Jennie redoubles her effort to escape Marcus, but it only strengthens his zeal to confront the piece of trash who thought it would be a good idea to ruin his marriage. Marcus gives her a slight push, motioning her to move towards the back entrance. The tension in the air is almost tangible as they move through the glum hallways, the lights flickering ominously. Sensing that the generators won’t be able to withstand the full force of the storm for much longer, Jennie sees an opportunity present itself. If the generators fail, then she could probably shake off Marcus in the ensuing chaos and darkness.</p><p>“So, I heard your mom died recently, I’m sorry about that. I know she and I had our differences from time to time, but I want you to know I always respected her.”</p><p>Jennie frowns at the mention of her mother’s death, how could he possibly know about that? She had left him months ago when she finally worked up the courage to leave him after that fateful, harrowing night.</p><p>
  <em>She silently closes the door behind her, mindful of her sleeping husband upstairs. She’s about to ascend the stairs when she notices the light burning in the living room, where to her surprise she finds Marcus waiting for her with a glass of bourbon in one hand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How was work, dear?” He mocks, taking a sip of his glass. “Exhausting from the looks of it, but then again frolicking around with those interns of yours must take a lot out of you.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know what you’re—” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“silence!” Marcus shouts, throwing the half-empty glass of Bourbon at Jennie’s head. She manages to avoid the projectile but not the full blow of his fist as it connects with her face. She can feel her teeth clatter as pain races through her jaw.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You forget your place, dear wife,” Marcus says as his fist connects again, causing her to double over in pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He stands over her, a glint of murderous intent in his bloodshot eyes and Jennie knows that if she doesn’t act now, she won’t get the chance later. The beatings or ‘his duty as a husband’ as Marcus calls it lasts for the next hour until Marcus decides she has enough, she watches him stumble to their bedroom in a drunken stupor, leaving his wife broken and bloody on the living room floor. She waits until she’s certain that he’s fast asleep if his ragged breathing is anything to go on before she pulls herself up from the floor. Her body cries out in pain, but she grits her teeth, willfully ignoring it. Snatching what few belongings she finds and some cash she steals out of his wallet, Jennie flees into the night.</em>
</p><p>She’s pulled back into the present when they round the corner of the office, grey orbs locking contact with green eyes for a fleeting moment before Jennie averts her gaze, terrified that William can see through her, but his eyes are fixed elsewhere.</p><p>Marcus is the first one to break the silence, formally addressing William as if he’s speaking to an old friend rather than the one responsible for destroying his marriage.</p><p>“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet, I’m Marcus, Jennifer’s husband. And you must be the miserable ingrate who thought it would be a good idea to sleep with my wife.  How long has this been going on, I wonder? Jennifer always had a fighting spirit, but I made sure she knew her place as my wife. Isn’t that right, dear?”</p><p>At this, Marcus violently yanks on Jennie’s arm until he hears a sickening pop, the limb dangling uselessly beside her, but Jennie ignores it, not willing to give Marcus the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain. Marcus releases his grip on her, allowing her to slide against the wall, as she cradles the injured limb.</p><p>She looks up to see William glaring daggers at an oblivious Marcus, his jaw furiously clenching and unclenching, the suit’s teeth scraping over each other.</p><p>“You are the saddest, pathetic excuse for a human being I’ve ever seen in my entire life, which is saying a lot as I’ve had my fair share.” William spats, the broken-down ear of the suit twitches briskly, causing tiny sparks of electricity to fly around.</p><p>Marcus holds his ground, undeterred by William’s accusations. He’s not about to take any criticism on his marriage from a guy who likes to dress up in a mascot costume.</p><p>He scoffs. “And you are what?” He points to Jennie then back to William. “Her knight in shining armor?”</p><p>William rolls his shoulders in annoyance; he’s fed up with the constant prattle from this obnoxious blowhard. He takes a step towards the man, determined to end this charade. Marcus feels his grip on the situation slipping, he hadn’t expected such open defiance from his wife’s secret lover. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but he was determined to put the fear of God into this homewrecker. He pulls out the small firearm from behind his back, up until this point he had no actual intention of actually using it, but it makes a rather intimidating sight. Jennie’s face turns pale at the sight of the weapon.</p><p>“Marcus”, she says trying to reason with her emotionally unstable husband before he does something, they will both regrets, “if you ever loved me then please listen to me now and get this through that thick skull of yours. You need to leave <strong>now!</strong> “Jennie pleads, her voice hoarse as she fights against the tears.</p><p>Her husband turns to her, his voice soft and calm as if talking to a child. “Jennifer, do I need to discipline you again?” He flashes the gun in front of her face, effectively silencing her. “Very well, now be a good wife and leave this to me.”</p><p>He turns back towards William, who looks surprisingly unfazed at the fact that Marcus just pulled a gun on him. Marcus’s hands are slightly shaking as he points the barrel of the gun at the other man’s chest. His finger is resting against the trigger, but it’s all an act to throw Jennie’s lover into disarray, he has no actual intent to pull the trigger, at least for now. William sensing his reluctance takes another step towards Marcus closing the distance between the two men until they are only inches apart.</p><p>“Go on then”, William sneers, “what are you waiting for? Pull the trigger.”</p><p>Marcus can’t keep his hands from shaking. “Don- Don’t tell me what to do! I’ll shoot!” Marcus threatens hollowly.</p><p>“Tell me, do you think someone can die more than once?”</p><p>“Wh-, what are you talking about?” Marcus stutters. He takes a better look at the other man, their close proximity revealing details he hadn’t previously noticed yet. The smell for one, up close the suit looks old and well-used, so it would be logical for it to have a musty odor but there’s a not so subtle undertone of death and decay.  And then there are the eyes, large grey circular orbs that seem to pierce into his very soul. The suit’s mouth seems to be locked in a perpetual grin, an object of some sort seems to be stuck behind its teeth, it’s color and general outline reminds him of … a human skull?</p><p>“What did you mean about dying twice?”</p><p>William shrugs. “Seeing as you’re a man of below-average intelligence, I’ll spell it out for you. I died some thirty-odd years ago in a place, not unlike this. So, unless you think that peashooter you call a gun can stop me, you’re about to become a smudge in the footnote of Fazbear’s.”</p><p>Marcus blindly stumbles back, the gun all but forgotten as it hangs loosely in his hand. He turns to Jennie, who is leaning against the wall, her breathing ragged but her eyes shine with an emotion he has never seen before in her, pity.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Marcus. I truly am.” She whispers as she fires the taser directly into his chest. The jolt of electricity is strong enough to cause Marcus to double over, crying out in pain.</p><p>The gun stumbles out his hand, Jennie quickly kicks it out of reach kicks it, the weapon sliding under the desk, forgotten. Marcus reaches out to her, one hand extended. Jennie looks away as she pulls the trigger again, firing another jolt of electricity through Marcus his body, this one strong enough to knock him unconscious.</p><p>William stalks over, his hands hanging limply by his side. “Is he dead?”  His tone is casual, uncaring.</p><p>Jennie bends down next to Marcus’s body. She checks for a pulse; his heartbeat is erratic but he’s still alive for now. She gives a curt shake.</p><p>“Want me to finish the job?” William offers. “I can make it quick and painless or… you decide” He leaves the proposition hanging in the air, waiting for Jennie to make a choice. She can feel bile rising in her throat at William’s indifferent tone, did a human life truly mean so little to him? He was talking about murdering a man in cold blood like they were chatting about the weather. She swallows, trying to keep her emotions in check as she responds, “just leave him.” She stands up and stumbles to the doorway, where she lets herself rest against the doorframe.</p><p>“Want me to take a look at that shoulder?” William offers.</p><p>“It’s fine, nothing I can’t handle.” She replies, repressing a shudder at the mere thought of him touching her. She winces in pain as she touches her injured shoulder, trying to diagnose the damage that Marcus had done. It’s obvious from the swelling and her inability to move her shoulder joint, that it’s dislocated.  Jennie starts to clumsily unbutton her coat, gritting her teeth as she does so.</p><p>“What are you doing?” William asks puzzled; Jennie can almost hear the figurative frown in his voice.</p><p>“I’m making an improvised sling,” Jennie explains as she tears apart her blouse, wrapping the fabric around her injured arm.</p><p>William nods approvingly, she had turned out to be quite a resourceful woman, that’s why he had chosen her in the first place.</p><p>“I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet since we’ve been so rudely interrupted, he glares at Marcus’s unconscious body before continuing, but how was your venture to the old Fazbear’s location? Did your investigation yield any noteworthy results?” William inquires.</p><p>Jennie can’t bear to look him directly in the eyes.</p><p><em>Just that my brother died by your hand alongside four other innocent children, after which you stuffed their bodies in animatronic suits in order to expunge your crimes. You’ve been playing the victim ever since and I, the trustworthy fool, fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. </em>She wants to say all this and more, she wants to scream until her throat is sore but the only sound, she can produce is a hoarse whisper. “The puppet.”</p><p>She can almost see his figurative eyebrows raising as his entire demeanor changes from laidback to annoyed. He can feel his anger rising as he accusingly points a finger at Jennie.</p><p>“What slander did it tell you about me? You shouldn’t believe a word that comes out of that oversized children’s toy.”</p><p>“I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet since we were so rudely interrupted, he glares at Marcus’s unconscious body before continuing, but how was your venture to the old Fazbear’s location? Did your investigation yield any noteworthy results?” William inquires.</p><p>Jennie can’t bear to look him directly in the eyes. Just that my brother’s disappearance wasn’t an accident, that you murdered him alongside four other innocent children and stuffed their bodies in animatronic suits in order to expunge your crimes. I played my part as the trustworthy fool, paving the way to further your own goals while I stumbled blindly around in the dark. She wants to say all this and more, she wants to scream until her throat is sore but the only sound, she can produce is a hoarse whisper. “The puppet.”</p><p>She can almost see his figurative eyebrows raising as his entire demeanor changes from laidback to annoyed. He points a finger accusingly at Jennie. “What slander did she tell you about me? You shouldn’t believe a word that comes out of that oversized children’s toy.”</p><p>She tightens the hold on the taser with her good hand, her knuckles turning white as she clamps to the small electronic device as a drowning man to a piece of driftwood.</p><p>“<em>She</em> didn’t have to tell me anything, I saw everything, William.” She pauses for a moment; the use of his name leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.</p><p>“I’m not sure if it was the Puppet’s doing or someone else, but it felt as if I was physically there. I had to watch as you lured my brother and the others into that storage room. I stood there, helplessly, as you slit their throats.” She shakes her head in disgust.</p><p>William takes a step towards her, menacingly. “I knew it was a bad idea to allow you to venture to the old location. I should have known she would manipulate you against me, she always was good at getting people to do her bidding.”</p><p>He shakes his head in disappointment. “I’m sorry it had to come to this,” he says as he takes another step towards Jennie.</p><p>Jennie messily wipes away the fresh tears with the back of her sleeve. “As am I”, she replies as she fires the taser directly into his chest, William screams in pain as 30,000-volt races through the suit’s electronics, frying the system. He falls to one knee, clawing at his chest as he locks eyes with Jennie, shock written in his features. Jennie’s shaking on her legs, whatever perverse power tied William’s spirit to the suit seemed to be more tenacious than she had initially anticipated.</p><p>She stands frozen in the spot like a deer caught in the headlights as William slowly pulls himself up from the floor, small electrical sparks dancing across his frame. His worn-down ear twitches erratically, while the perpetual grin turns into something of a grimace as he rises to his full height, the suit’s joints cracking ominously. The standstill is momentarily broken when a crash of thunder resounds through the office, nearly knocking Jennie off her socks. She scrambles back as her fight or flight response kicks in, blindly running through the hallways, determined to put as much distance between her and William as possible. Her mind is racing as she tries to come up with a strategy, she knows William can’t leave the building for reasons unknown to her, meaning she would be out of harm’s reach if she could make it outside. But that would mean leaving Marcus behind in the hands of a madman, even everything she had to endure because of him, she couldn’t bring herself to condemn him. She leans against the door frame of the storage room, her lungs burning with each strained breath she takes. The sound of metallic footsteps resonate through the hallway, the precise origin of their location is hard to pin down, but it sounds too close for comfort.  She’s about to move on when the hallway lights start to flicker in rapid succession before turning off completely, throwing the hallway into complete disarray. Her pulse quickens as she notices the two glowing eyes at the end of the hall. She has to stifle down a gasp as they seem to stare straight through her. The beating of her heart sounds exceedingly loud in the stillness of the hallway.  After several agonizing seconds, the eyes finally turn away followed by the screeching of metal on concrete as William drags himself through the hallways. More time passes, minutes slowly ticking by as Jennie tries to calm her fraying nerves. Her fingers fumble with the clasp of her flashlight that’s hooked around her belt.  She clutches the flashlight close to her chest, like a mother cradling a newborn infant. Shuffling through the hallways, she navigates her way through the labyrinth, one hand tracing the wall, the other firmly grasping the flashlight. She’s hesitant to use the tool, lest it attracts unwanted attention. A small shriek escapes her lips as her hand suddenly falls away into nothingness. Mentally chastising herself, Jennie strains her ears, listening for the slightest disturbance. Nothing, except for the howling storm outside and the clanging of metallic pipes.</p><p>Deciding to risk it, Jennie quickly shines her flashlight inside the doorway, the light illuminating the small kitchen where she had once made popcorn for their weekly movie nights.  She turns away, disgusted that she had ever offered her companionship to her brother’s murderer when something clicks. The kitchen, though part of the attraction, was nonetheless real and outfitted with a handful of kitchen appliances, including a small microwave. Jennie always preferred to make her popcorn on the stove, just like her mother had done all those years ago when she was still a child.  She knows her plan is extremely volatile, there is no telling whether she would be able to make it out of the building alive in time but if there was a chance, she could take William with her and avenge the children in the process, then it would be well worth the risk. She opens the valve of the small portable gas tank below the stove, turning it all the way open. It would take some time for the gas to fill the hallways, giving her precious moments to escape. </p><p>The sound of a gunshot reverberates through the hallways, she instantly presses herself flat against the wall while scouring the adjacent hallways for any sign of life as she quickly turns off the flashlight. A second gunshot goes off in the darkness, followed by the voice of Marcus who is screaming something, his words are lost on her but judging by his tone, he sounds terrified. Jennie’s torn apart between rushing to his aid and using this momentary distraction to escape. Did Marcus truly deserve her compassion? In a way, he was no better than William, both men had emotionally abused her to further their own goals. No, Marcus was a lot of things but even he didn’t deserve whatever fate William had in store for him. Moving at a quick pace, Jennie traverses the hallways in search of the two men. Another ear-splitting scream compels her to discard all sense of cautiousness as she flicks on the flashlight, shining it through the empty hallway. A particular spot piques her interest, she shuffles closer, her fingers brushing over the wall.  A sticky copper-colored residue sticks to her fingers, which she instantly recognizes as blood. A closer inspection reveals a trail of blood splatters leading to the storage room. Heart sinking in her chest, Jennie reluctantly enters the storage room, mentally steeling herself for whatever nightmarish tableau awaited her. She finds her ex-husband or rather what once had passed as him, face down on the floor, his skull caved in, a pool of blood and brain matter forming. Feelings of guilt threaten to consume her, as she mentally tallies Marcus his death to the list of people she failed. She had failed her mother as a daughter, she had failed her brother as a sister and now she had failed her husband as a wife. Perhaps it would be better if she perished here as well, their deaths becoming a footnote in the convoluted history of Fazbear’s.</p><p><em>“No.” </em>A small, insistent voice whispers in the back of her mind. <em>“There is still more work to be done, the souls of the children still need to be laid to rest.”</em></p><p>The voice spoke the truth but first, she had to come face to face with the troubled soul that roamed these halls, for one last time. Whispering a prayer under her breath, Jennie heads out to confront the one she had once called “f<em>riend”. </em>The storm outside continues to rage on as she pushes forward, determined to reach the exit, and put an end to this harrowing night. The door to the back alley is wide open, the draft carrying a flurry of smooth powdery snow inside. Jennie shivers beneath her coat, not from the cold winter air but something less tangible. Her body moves on its own accord, her legs pumping as she runs towards the door. The distance is rapidly closing, fifteen paces, ten paces, five paces. She’s just about to cross the threshold when a strong hand grabs her by the shoulder. Crying out, partly in shock but mostly because of the vice grip on her injured shoulder, she struggles to free herself.  The grip on her injured shoulder relaxes for a brief moment but it’s all she needs, shrugging off the coat that was hanging loosely on her shoulders, Jennie vaults through the open door, piles of freshly fallen snow flare up as she drops face down in a large bank of snow. Raising herself to a sitting position, she turns towards the door, where William is staring at her, a look of contemplation softening his features. He hesitantly stretches out an arm towards her, only to retract it in pain when it comes into contact with whatever barrier kept him locked inside the building. Giving Jennie one last look of penitence, he stalks off, vanishing in the dark bowels of the fake pizzeria.  She watches him go with an equal amount of disgust and sorrow as she lifts herself from the snow.  The gas must have spread properly by now, all it would take now was a final spark and then the nightmare would finally be over. She takes out the small Zippo lighter that she carries around for her “<em>emergency smoke breaks”</em> as she eloquently calls them.</p><p>“I truly hope you find peace in the next life”, Jennie says as she expertly throws the lit lighter in the door opening.</p><p>She watches on, as the fire rapidly consumes the pizzeria, taking another drag of her cigarette as sirens blare on in the distance. The fire department finds her like that, ten minutes later, the epitome of calmness, were it not for the numerous cigarette buds that littered the ground around her.</p><p>***</p><p>“You’ve returned.” The Puppet didn’t bother to hide the surprise in their voice as it gave Jennie a quick once-over, their eyes lingering for a moment on the arm sling. “Though, not entirely unscathed, it appears.”</p><p>Jennie leans against the wall, keeping her distance from The Puppet, she still didn’t entirely trust the entity that possessed the animatronic. Not after all that, she had been through.</p><p>“I came as soon as I could. The police took me in for questioning considering my workplace went up in flames last night, along with my ex-husband.” She shudders at the thought, the events that unfurled yesterday would haunt her dreams for the following nights to come.</p><p>The Puppet nods sympathetically.  “And what of <em>him</em>?” it asks, even now refusing to call their killer by his name.</p><p>Jennie shakes her head. “I honestly don’t know; nothing could have survived that fire. You don’t think he still lives, do you?”</p><p>“If there’s one thing I learned, it’s that <em>he</em> has an uncanny knack of cheating death.  I wouldn’t believe it until I saw his blackened, shriveled corpse with my own eyes.”</p><p>***</p><p>Zach Fisher was asleep when he got the phone call from the local police asking him to come to his Fazbear’s Fright. He could see the smoke from afar, flashing lights of blue, red, and orange illuminating the bottom of the black ashen smoke cloud. This couldn't be happening.</p><p>“What happened?!” he screams to the nearest fireman.</p><p>“Sir, you need to stay calm or we will remove you from the premises.” A voice says from behind him. Zach turns around, surprised to see the same police officer from before, the one who came to check up on them after the break-in.</p><p>“It was a gas explosion.” The man explains, pointing towards the firemen working hard to put out the fire.</p><p>“How do you know?” Zach asks in disbelieve.</p><p>“The security guard told us.”</p><p> “Where is she?” he snarls to the man.</p><p>“Over there.” The man points to the parked ambulance, where two paramedics are tending to a woman’s wounds. Coming up closer, he can see that Jennifer hadn’t made it out entirely unscathed, her arm was bandaged in some sort of sling and she had this haunted look in her eyes.</p><p>“What happened?” he asks, unable to keep his voice from shaking.</p><p>She looks at him as if seeing him for the first time. “It’s over, it’s finally over. I hope they find peace, all of them.”</p><p>He wants to ask more, he wants to shake her until she starts making sense but a huge crash interrupts him, he turns around just in time to see his business crumble to the ground before him.</p><p>“Excuse me, ma'am. we need to take a look at that arm of yours.”</p><p>Zach watches on, fighting back tears as he realizes that Fazbear's fright is no more.</p><p>***</p><p>Zach looks at the pile of rubble that once was Fazbear’s Fright with a mix of disappointment and melancholy. He had bought the property years a couple of months ago with the idea to revolutionize the amusement industry, banking on the notorious history that the Fazbear’s franchise brought with it. Back then, the future was looking bright, they had managed to salvage authentic pieces from the original pizzeria’s, including one, now missing, animatronic. He kicks at a piece of rubble; his plans had gone up in flames last night. Gone were his ideas of expanding the Fright’s franchise, shame, he had been so close to sealing the deal with the local mall. How could this all happen? Sure, he had been there when the police interviewed Jennifer, who had been shaking like a leaf, as she recalled how her ex-husband forced his way into the building. He had taken her hostage under gunpoint and it was only by some miracle that she managed to escape. She attributed it to the animatronic, who had decided that moment to go haywire, attacking the pair. Jennie had used the scuffle to her advantage, effectively escaping out of the building. Still, there were gaps in her story, a lot of them, to be honest. Like, how her ex-husband ended up dead, his head caved in, or how the pizzeria went up in flames. The fire department had found out that the source of the fire started in the kitchen, where they had placed a small gas stove. He decided he would question Jennifer again, not yet, he would give her some time to recover first, but he needed answers.</p><p>He jumps back in surprise as the rubble beneath his feet begins to move of its own accord. He watches with increasing fascination as a metal hand stretches out from under a slab of concrete, seemingly looking for a fingerhold. The slab of concrete moves inches at first, but the figure beneath it, carries on undeterred. Suddenly the slab moves with all the force of a sledgehammer as it’s thrown to the side. Zach looks on as an all too familiar animatronic rabbit stands up from the rubble, shaking off the dust that clings to it. The fire has taken its toll on it, it’s missing most of its left arm and one of the suit’s ears is hanging on by a thread. A smirk plays on its features as it gazes at him, a flash of recognition lighting up its eyes.</p><p> “<em>I always come back.”</em></p>
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